A Tail Tale
by Tiger Timberwolf
Summary: Removed, revised, edited, COMPLETE! A BV AU in that infamous three years, where good intentions lead to...unexected romance?
1. Default Chapter

A/N: Yes, I'm back! This fic has been removed, edited, and will be re- uploaded gradually (say every few days, tentatively).  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or any of its characters, and I make no profit off this work of fanfiction. Don't sue me, I'm broke anyway!  
  
A Tail Tale Chapter One  
  
Realistically, if Vegeta had never admitted that he didn't know what Christmas was, the whole thing never would have happened.  
  
But he had been so dumbfounded by the sight of the blasted woman and her annoying mother bringing a tree indoors and covering it with gaudy lights and fragile glass spheres that he had been unable to keep his mouth shut.  
  
"What do you imbeciles think you are doing?"  
  
The blue haired wench had been furious, but before she could retort the older blonde ditz was off. From her babble he gained a general knowledge of this 'Christmas' celebrated by many of the pathetic inhabitants of the pathetic planet. In theory it was not too different from the winter solstice observed on Vegeta-sei. But he wasn't about to tell that to his erstwhile hosts, and stormed off into the kitchen in search of a meal. Meanwhile, the conversation continued as the tree was set up.  
  
"Poor boy! I'll bet he's never even gotten a Christmas present!"  
  
"Mom, Vegeta is not a boy, and I don't think he cares one way or the other - insufferable jerk!"  
  
"Oooh, I know, I can make him a nice sweater to wear when the weather gets colder!"  
  
Bulma sweat-dropped at the idea of Vegeta in a sweater, not to mention the idea of Vegeta's probable reaction to such a gift. But the whole thing did make her think, and that was a dangerous thing to do to a genius such as her. Her brain proceeded to take the idea of what to get her bad- tempered houseguest for a Christmas present as a direct challenge. It should perhaps be noted that she was currently not involved in any serious projects, and so had idle time on her hands.  
  
It was during the first explosion of the Gravity Room that she got her idea. A semi-conscious Saiyan prince had been carried into the med-lab, bruised and bleeding. Bulma quickly determined that he was mostly stunned, but not seriously injured. The best thing to do for him would be to clean him up and get him to sleep it off.  
  
She told him as much and began to wash the blood off him. As he came back to himself, he tried to protest and leave, whereupon Bulma, annoyed beyond her limits at his attitude, told him exactly where he could stuff his protests and threatened to neuter him if he didn't stay still and let her finish.  
  
Whether it was her tone, the threat, or that he was hurting more than he would let on, Vegeta submitted, albeit grumblingly, to her ministrations. She cleaned him up as gently as she could, eying his muscular body appreciatively as she did so. Bulma might have changed somewhat since her days of traveling with Goku, but she still appreciated the male species - especially one as handsome as Vegeta. Too bad he could use an attitude transplant, she mused as she moved the damp cloth down his back. On the other hand, if Yamcha had been as self confident as Vegeta, she might not have finally dumped him over his wishy- washy, often downright fickle ways.  
  
As she reached his lower back, the Saiyan let out a noise somewhere between a hiss and a snarl. His muscles tensed up, and she jerked her hand back immediately.  
  
"Sorry, did I hit a sore spot?" she asked. It must have been pretty bad for someone as stoic as him to react.  
  
"Yes, woman, a sore spot," he hissed between clenched teeth, and there was something so sarcastic and venomous in his tone that she looked again. Exposed by a tear in his training outfit was a raised lump on his lower back perhaps two inches in diameter, and barely half an inch in height. It was deep brown, different from his olive skin tone, and looked - furry? After a startled moment, Bulma realized that it was the remnant of his tail.  
  
"Does that - hurt you?" she asked somewhat tentatively. He turned his head to glare at her out of sullen onyx eyes.  
  
"I don't know, maybe I should cut off your arm. Then you can tell me if the stump still hurts," he bit out sharply.  
  
"That's different," she began, but he cut her off with his harsh laugh.  
  
"Different," he mocked. "Do you assume that because of our similarities, Saiyans are humans with tails? That it is somehow extraneous?" Vegeta snorted and turned his head away in disgust. "I have lost what was at the very least a limb, woman."  
  
And he would say no more, not making another sound as she finished cleaning him, and for once Bulma was too engrossed in her thoughts to argue with him. A seed of a plan was germinating in her mind.  
  
After the GR incident, Vegeta noticed that the woman was spending at least as much time in her lab as he at his training. He only noticed because he did not have to put up with her pathetic excuses for meals, and her absentminded idiot of a father was the one repairing the GR. He told himself that he did not care what the blue haired annoyance was doing, and pushed himself harder than ever. Super-Saiyan was so close he could all but taste it, yet still he could not break through the barrier. Given that, it was perhaps no surprise that three days before Christmas the GR exploded again. This time, however, Vegeta was seriously injured.  
  
Less than 24 hours later.  
  
Bulma cautiously opened the door to the med-lab. Her quarry, the solo occupant of the room, lay sleeping in one of the beds. The GR explosion had left him badly hurt, and it would be two days before the crop of senzu beans would be ready. Now was the perfect time to put her plan into action.  
  
Looking every inch the frazzled researcher, down to the weary eyes and stained lab coat, she padded quietly across the smooth floor, holding a small syringe full of bluish liquid. She paused at the bedside, taking a moment to make certain he was in no immediate danger. Vegeta was heavily bandaged, nearly as badly as Goku had been after their first fight. His chest rose and fell steadily, though, and the monitors indicated no current problems.  
  
She wiped down his exposed bicep with an alcohol swap, and injected him with the serum. To her dismay, he jerked violently as the last of it entered his bloodstream. The syringe went flying as the prince caught the hand that had held the needle and sank his teeth deeply into it. Bulma screeched in shock and pain.  
  
Fortunately, Vegeta let go almost immediately. He hadn't even woken up while he was attacking her! Furious, she stormed over to the counter, muttering dire curses at the unconscious Saiyan while she bandaged her wounded hand.  
  
Two hours after Bulma left the med lab, the Saiyan prince stirred once again. He rolled onto his side, muttering in his sleep. A fuzzy brown appendage worked its way out of the sheets to lash contentedly on the mattress. Vegeta had his tail back. 


	2. Vegeta's Dilemma

A/N: Thank you for the nice responses! Sadly, I have to inform those who asked that I simply have no time to email when I'm going to update. I'm lucky I have time to put this up at all! But rest assured, as this is a repost, a chapter should go up at most every two days.  
  
Disclaimer: See chapter one.  
  
Tail Tale, Chapter 2  
  
Vegeta's eyes opened slowly. He lay very still for several moments, allowing his fuzzy memories to get into their proper focus. The GR had exploded. He had been hurt. It would be a few days before he could receive a senzu bean. His teeth ground together in annoyance at the disruption to his training, and his tail gave an angry flick.  
  
"!!!"  
  
His tail gave an angry flick?! Vegeta sat bolt upright in the med-lab cot, ignoring the agonized protests of his wounds. His tail curled into its accustomed place around his waist. Dark eyes wide, he ran a hand over the furry appendage, reassuring himself that it was indeed real. A feral smirk crossed his face, and he let out a sharp bark of laughter. He could not remember the last time he had been so pleased. His tail was back! For the first time in too long he felt whole again, the badge of Saiyan pride restored to him. Then his contemplation was interrupted as his only remaining full-blooded subject appeared in the room.  
  
"Hey Vegeta, I got the senzu beans from - whoa!" Goku's eyes went comically wide at the sight of the prince's re-grown tail. "You got your tail back!"  
  
"Huh, your perception of the obvious never ceases to amaze me, Kakkorot." Vegeta tried to keep the pain out of his voice. His wounded body was still screaming in protest at sitting up. Oblivious to the sarcasm, the other man grinned and came over to the bed, handing over one of the tiny, amazing senzus. Vegeta eagerly consumed it, drew a deep breath in relief as his wounds vanished, and set about stripping off the confining bandages.  
  
"Well, I'm glad you'll be up to sparring again, Vegeta. I can't stay, though, it's Christmas Eve and Chi-chi's cooking a feast!" Goku's stomach rumbled its agreement, and he sheepishly placed on hand on the back of his head. Vegeta glared. "Bye!" Placing two fingers on his forehead, the cheerful Saiyan vanished. Muttering under his breath, the prince rose from the bed. He experimentally flexed his muscles, including his tail, and gave a satisfied nod. Between the healing of all that damage and the restoration of the tail, he was nearly a third again as strong as he had been.  
  
As he circled the bed towards the door, his eyes caught sight of a small note on the bedside table. Frowning, he picked it up, noting the unmistakable scent of the blue-haired woman all over it.  
  
Dear Vegeta (it read) I know it's early, but I figured you wouldn't want to wait any longer to get your tail back. I hope you like it - it's my Christmas present to you. Bulma. -  
  
His eyebrows shot upwards as he finished the note. The woman was responsible for his tail's reappearance? It had been a gift to him? He shook his head in disbelief. She had to be insane. Why would she do such a thing? Vaguely, he recalled her injecting him with something while he was in a drug-induced haze. Something else had happened, something important, but it lingered irritatingly out of reach.  
  
Still frowning, he left the med-lab and headed for the kitchen to replenish his body's stores. As relieved as he was to have his tail back, the fact that the woman had gone to the trouble to make it happen disturbed him. The cold warrior, accustomed only to rage and pain, was having difficulty deciphering the emotions the kind act was stirring in him. The concept of 'giving' was so foreign to him that he wondered if perhaps it was some sort of trick, except that she got no benefit he could possibly see out of restoring his tail to him.  
  
Approaching the kitchen with a scowl firmly in place, he was somewhat surprised by the amount of noise and delectable smells emerging from it. Opening the door cautiously, he was greeted by the scents of a feast in the making. There was clearly enough food being prepared not only for a hungry Saiyan, but for several hungry humans as well. Sweetmeats he recognized as 'pies' were cooling on top of the oven. Various types of meat were being cooked in various ways, as well as many other foodstuffs familiar and foreign. The blue haired woman, looking somewhat haggard and worn out, was washing dishes as fast as her mother was using them. Well, at least he knew she wouldn't be able to ruin any of the food by attempting to cook it herself! As he stood in the doorway observing, the blonde noticed him and rushed over.  
  
"Oooh, Vegeta darling, you're finally awake!" Her inane giggle almost made him back off, but for his pride - and the savory packet of meat, spices, and bread that she shoved into his hand. "You must be starving, I've made some things you can pick at - don't fill up, dear, or you won't be able to eat the dinner I'm making!" Her gaze fell to his waist and the tail wrapped there. "I never knew you had a tail, honey! Why, it looks just like that adorable Goku's did when he was small!" Before he could explode at her for the comparison, his temper was cooled by her follow up statement, "But yours is so much finer than his ever was, dear, much more elegant and handsome. I suppose that befits a prince, though, doesn't it?" She patted his cheek and was off again into the kitchen.  
  
Completely bewildered, Vegeta recouped by taking a large bite of the meat pasty she'd handed him. The taste of food reminded him how hungry he was, and he consumed it quickly. The blue haired woman looked up from her dishwashing to smile quickly at him. He stared back, uncertain of how to react. What did she want from him? But she simply grinned and nodded at the kitchen table.  
  
"All the hors d'eouvers are over there. You can pick at them until the dinner's ready, there's plenty." She dried her hands and went to the table herself. Vegeta followed suit and sat down with several more pasties in front of him. She chose a smaller amount of items and nibbled away. He glanced at her plate and frowned.  
  
"What the hell are you eating, woman?" She picked up another of the pink bug-like things and dipped it into a spicy smelling red sauce.  
  
"They're called shrimp. A kind of shellfish, very tasty. Here, try one." When he looked suspicious at the proffered item, she rolled her eyes. "Come on; don't tell me the space traveling alien is afraid to try something new."  
  
"I've consumed far worse things than exist on this planet," snorted Vegeta, taking the 'shrimp'. He was surprised to find it quite good, if of unusual texture. She giggled at his expression.  
  
"Told you so. Here, try them with the cocktail sauce." Her eyes locked on his, and she hesitated. "What?"  
  
"Why?" He demanded softly, not wanting to attract the attention of the annoying older female. "Why did you restore my tail?"  
  
"It was a Christmas present, Vegeta," she replied, equally softly. "It was the only thing I could think of that you would really appreciate."  
  
"But why, woman?" His voice rose slightly. "Why would you do such a thing? I am not part of your family - I am not even one of your pathetic friends!" She stuck her tongue out at him, an act so immature (even for her) that he sat back, startled.  
  
"Jeez, don't Saiyans ever give gifts? It's Christmas, Vegeta, people give presents to people as an expression of goodwill and cheer. You're not family, maybe not a friend, but you are a guest and you are training to defeat the androids. Besides," she stood up. "You're all alone on this planet, Vegeta. I can't stand to see anyone alone on Christmas."  
  
"Crazy humans." was all he could mumble as she went back to dishwashing. He still could not for the life of him understand her. He was unusually silent throughout the rest of the night, though he stuffed himself at the evening meal. Vegeta noted something curious as the night went on. First of all, her hand was bandaged, leading him to wonder when and where she might have possibly been injured, considering her utter lack of fighting ability. Secondly, she seemed more and more unfocused as the meal progressed. Her bubbly annoying mother finally took notice of this.  
  
"Bulma, dear? What's wrong?" She stood and went over to her daughter, who stared blankly at her plate.  
  
"I think I'm coming down with something. I don't feel so great," she muttered. Bunny placed a hand on her forehead, and her eyes went wide with alarm.  
  
"Oh my, you're burning up! You should be in bed!" Her eyes turned to, of all people, Vegeta. "Vegeta, would you please be a dear and bring Bulma up to her bed?"  
  
Vegeta was about to protest that he was not a 'dear' and that Saiyan princes did not carry sick human females up to bed. But his tail twitching reminded him of the peculiar behavior of the woman, and to his chagrin, he realized that under the laws of his own people, he did indeed owe her a favor. Had she known? Was that why she had restored his tail? Grumbling under his breath, he effortlessly lifted the weakly protesting woman into his arms and headed upstairs. He swore to himself as he kicked open the door to the woman's room. If she had known that he would owe her for this favor, he would kill her slowly. He lay her down on her bed with as much care as he could stomach.  
  
"Why - are you being so nice?" she asked him, somewhat woozily. So she had not known. He supposed he couldn't kill her, then.  
  
"When a great service is performed for one of royal blood," he replied gruffly, tossing a blanket over her, "we are honor-bound to return the favor."  
  
"Great serv - your tail? But that was a gift Vegeta - you don't need," she yawned widely, "to pay me back for that. Gifts on Christmas - are an earth tradition." Shivering, she pulled the blanket up to her chin. "And if I knew you were gonna bite me, you jerk, I wouldn't have bothered."  
  
Vegeta was on his way out the door, but her last words made him spin around, eyes widening. Bulma was already half drowsing in her bed, but he caught her by the shoulders and shook her roughly awake.  
  
"Vegeta, what are you - ?"  
  
"What do you mean, bit you?" he demanded in a strained voice. "I never bit you, woman!" Her eyes glassy with fever, she scowled and showed him her hand.  
  
"Yes you did, right after I gave you the serum to re-grow your tail. Hey!" He was tearing the bandages off her hand. She was too weak to struggle, and settled for glaring as he lifted her wounded hand to the light. To her surprise, the bite mark was entirely healed over, leaving a crescent scar in its place. Vegeta swore in his own tongue and several others she did not recognize. "Will you knock it off and leave now? I feel really - really - not good." her voice trailed away and her eyes closed.  
  
The Saiyan prince could not believe this was happening. He had bitten her! He cursed the human drugs that had made him so out of it he could unknowingly allow such a thing to happen. The woman shivered in her unnatural sleep, her skin flushed with fever. She was already well into the Annar. His tail loosened its hold on his waist and lashed the air furiously.  
  
"Fuck!"  
  
It was a peculiarity of the Saiyan Royal Family, bred into their genes along with their pain resistant tails. Had Bulma ever bothered to check Vegeta's teeth, she would have been surprised to find that the sharp eyeteeth he possessed were hollow. From two small glands in the roof of his mouth, his bite injected a peculiar DNA retrovirus that lay dormant until it entered a non-Saiyan blood stream. Then it quickly set to work altering the recipient of the bite, making them, to put it concisely, Saiyan. It was an adaptation to make certain the royal bloodline remained pure. Even if a prince or princess chose to mate with an alien, the alien would become Saiyan and ensure that no half-breeds were created in the bloodline.  
  
It was such a well kept secret that not even Frieza had known about it. Vegeta had been exceptionally careful in his lifetime.  
  
Until now, he had successfully prevented himself from ever accidentally biting someone. Until NOW! A vein pulsed in his forehead. Stupid stupid STUPID woman! There wasn't even anything he could do to reverse it. Within 24 to 48 hours of the onset of the Annar, she would be fully Saiyan.  
  
As Vegeta paced the room, a traitorous thought wormed its way through his brain. Would it really be so bad for the woman to become a Saiyan? He had often been forced, albeit grudgingly, to admit that her attitude was far more suited to a Saiyan female than a human. "No!" He hissed. She was a human who would become a Saiyan. She would be just as bad as Kakkorot, a disgrace to the race. And even more intolerable, she would be a disgrace to him, since his bite was responsible. A soft glow surrounded his hand at the thought, and he briefly toyed with the idea of doing away with her as she lay there.  
  
But slowly the glow faded, and he shook his head. Kakkorot would kill him. He would not have the luxury of the GR to train in. He would never achieve his goal of becoming a super-Saiyan. He could not kill her. And that same traitorous little part of his brain murmured that he would miss arguing with her, miss having someone who actually cared if he lived or died, miss - he smashed that thought down so brutally that it fled back into the hidden recesses of his mind in fright. Vegeta's eyes narrowed. If she was to become a Saiyan, so be it then. But he would not allow her to be as ignorant and disparaging of the race as the softheaded Kakkorot and his half-breed brat were.  
  
His mind working quickly now, he located pen and paper, scowling at the sickening heart stamped stationary. Writing in his sharp, angular hand, he informed her parents that Bulma had a sickness peculiar to his race, and one that he was fully qualified to treat. That it was not life threatening, and he would take her to a secluded place to recover for a short time. She would contact them as soon as she was feeling better. Her ditzy mother would have no problem with that, and her father was so absent-minded he doubted the old man would even notice his daughter was missing. The Saiyan picked up one of her packets of capsules lying on the dresser and tucked it into the waist of his pants. No point in giving her a reason to bitch at him, after all. His ears couldn't deal with prolonged shrieking by her loud mouth.  
  
"How the hell can one damn woman cause so much fucking trouble?" he hissed as he left the note for her parents to find. At least this way he would not have to deal with those pests she called friends thinking she was kidnapped. Vegeta yanked back the covers, ignoring her whimpers, and picked her up once again. Fortunately, she had large windows in her room, and he was able to fly out of them easily.  
  
He at least knew where he was going. Not long after he came to live with the Briefs, he chanced upon an uninhabited atoll whilst training over the ocean. It contained acceptable amounts of wild game, and was often a welcome relief from the annoying humans. He had spent several nights there when the other inhabitants of the planet became intolerable. It would serve well for his purposes. Keeping his power at normal levels so as not to attract unwanted attention, he flew rapidly towards it.  
  
The woman did not stir much as they traveled, but her skin was extremely warm to the touch. That fit with what he remembered his father telling him; the start of the Annar was marked by a fierce fever. The body temperature would stay elevated as the body's reserves fueled the changes. Already he noted that her oddly colored hair had begun to look somewhat spikier than normal. He wondered briefly if the color would change, and touched down on the island.  
  
The flight had taken no time at all for one of his abilities. He allowed himself a small smirk and headed for the interior. Several large carnivores threatened him as he traveled, reptilian creatures he'd heard referred to as 'dinosaurs'. Pathetic, really. A few well-aimed ki blasts drove them off, one or two of the more stubborn ones with scorched hides. At least he knew he would have something to eat over the next few days.  
  
A large cone shaped mountain, an extinct volcano, marked the middle of the island. Vegeta had long since blasted himself a cave in the side of it, conveniently near to a running stream. It was here that he took the woman. A saber-toothed beast had taken up residence in his absence. It was hardly worth the ki blast he used to get rid of it. That taken care of, he took his burden into the cave. At least the beast had not fouled it. He would have taken care to hunt it down and skin it if it had.  
  
"V-vegeta?" The woman was awake. Surprising, actually. He set her down on the smooth stone floor. "Where are we?"  
  
"Someplace safe," he muttered. "Someplace for you to rest and recover." She stared at him, her eyes wide and confused. He wondered how much was getting through to her in this state. "Go to sleep," he added gruffly. She shook her head once, twice.  
  
"C-cold."  
  
Mentally he cursed. Of course she was cold, with her fever so high. And he had brought no blankets along in his hurry. He examined the capsules; they were also useless for warmth. She was starting to shiver so badly that her teeth clacked together.  
  
"Damn woman," he snarled, and sat down with his back to the wall. Overriding her weak protests, he gathered her in his arms and held her close to him so that his body heat might help. After a moment's thought, he raised his ki slightly, heating the both of them. His temper on edge from being forced into this ridiculous situation, he was NOT expecting her to snuggle close to him. Vegeta's spine went rigid with surprise as she curled closely to him, face pressed against his chest and arms around his neck. He sat there for a full minute, uncertain what to do. His first instinct was to push her roughly away, but if he was trying to keep her warm, he couldn't do that. Secondly, he had to admit that it was not entirely an uncomfortable thing to have her so near. He'd never noticed how good her smell was before.  
  
Slowly the prince began to relax, just a bit. Keeping his ki up to maintain the warmth, he jerkily placed his arms around her - to hold her in place, he told himself. She responded with a sleepy sigh of contentment. As the minutes passed Vegeta continued to relax, growing accustomed to her nearness. His eyelids drooped lower and lower, until finally his head tilted back and his breaths took on the deep evenness of sleep. His tail, which had been quiet around his waist until that point, uncurled. It flicked once or twice, and then wrapped firmly around Bulma's middle, holding her to him as they slept. 


	3. Minor Errors

A/N: A big thank you to all who reviewed! If you've read this before, I know that there haven't been many changes yet. Don't worry; things will be different from the original post, I promise!  
  
Disclaimer: See Chapter One  
  
A Tail Tale, Chapter 3  
  
Bulma woke up slowly. She still felt sick and a little woozy, but at least she was warm and comfortable. She snuggled closer to the muscular chest she was leaning against, comforted by the masculine scent of its owner.  
  
Chest?  
  
Masculine?  
  
She suppressed a shriek and tilted her head upwards to see who exactly held her. Her mouth fell open. Of all the things she had imagined, waking up cuddled in VEGETA'S arms was NOT on the list. They were both fully clothed (thank goodness!) and he was sitting with his back against a rock wall. She was seated on his legs. His arms were loosely wrapped around her, but something else held her close. After a moment, she discovered it was his tail, snugly around her waist. His eyes were closed and soft half snores emitted from his open mouth.  
  
Her fuzzy mind was trying to take it all in and piece together what the hell was going on. She recalled getting sick and being carried to her room, then Vegeta demanding to know about the bite. And then - a blank time of sleep, followed by waking up here, wherever she was. Someplace safe, he'd said. And finally being so very cold, only to have him - her cheeks reddened - hold her close to keep her warm.  
  
It was all so out of character for the Saiyan prince that for a moment she wondered if she'd lost her mind. Only for a moment, though, before her scientific brain asserted that there had to be SOME logical explanation for all of this. Deciding to try to see where she was, she gingerly grasped his tail, hoping to get it to let her go. He stirred slightly at the touch, but did not wake. Noting that it was far softer and sleeker than Goku's had been, she tried to unwind it. As her hands moved over the fur, the timbre of Vegeta's snores changed. She was astonished to hear a deep rumbling purr swelling from his chest.  
  
Saiyans purred?  
  
Fascinated, Bulma continued to run her hand over the last few inches of his tail, listening to the noise. Meanwhile, Vegeta slowly began to come awake. He was conscious of long unused muscles in his chest and throat rumbling, and a pleasant sensation running along the end of his tail. Half asleep, he realized that he was purring, something he had not done for years. And then his mind woke up as he realized that someone was stroking his tail. His eyes snapped open, caught between outrage and utter contentment, emotion warring with physical reaction. Of course, it was the blasted woman, petting the end of his tail with an intrigued look on her face. He jerked it out of her grip, firmly squashing the sense of disappointment at having the pleasant sensation stop.  
  
Bulma looked up, startled, and gulped at the sight of Vegeta awake. He glared at her out of half lidded eyes. "Do not touch my tail again, woman, or even Kakkorot will not be able to save you." The threat would have had more force if his voice did not still have a hint of a purr in it. Seeming to realize that, he closed his mouth and growled.  
  
"Well, if you didn't have it wrapped around me, I wouldn't have done it!" snapped the woman in response, covering up her fear with anger. Vegeta seemed to realize for the first time exactly where his tail was, and her anger faded at the look of astonishment on his face. And - was he reddening a bit? Before she could figure that out, he pulled his tail away and roughly pushed her off his lap onto a cold stone floor. "OW! Vegeta!"  
  
"Woman!" he mocked her tone back at her, making her flush angrily. Settling his traitorous tail back around his waist, he rose to his feet. She struggled to rise herself, clearly still shaky from the Annar. At least the first part, the raging fever, was over with. Unfortunately, the more painful half of it was still to come.  
  
While he was thinking, Bulma unsteadily walked out into the sun. She stared around at the tropical forest pressing close and shook her head in confusion. "I suppose you want to know what's going on?" asked Vegeta gruffly, moving to stand beside her. She glanced sidelong at him, completely bewildered now, and nodded. She had never seen so many emotions play across his face - anger, disgust, resignation, and thoughtfulness. He did not wait for her answer, but began to speak.  
  
When he was done, she sat down hard on the ground, shaken beyond words.  
  
"A Saiyan? Me?"  
  
"There is no way to reverse it," he said, staring at some point in the distance. "Even if you wanted to use the dragonballs to do it, you'll have to wait a year. They were just used."  
  
"I know," she replied absently, her mind in a whirl. Bulma honestly could not decide how she felt about this. "If you can do this, why didn't you use it to rebuild your race? I mean, if you can make someone a Saiyan, why -" She broke off at his harsh bark of laughter. "What?" He turned his dark gaze to her, a sardonic expression on his angular face.  
  
"One," he said flatly, "The venom is very small in quantity, and takes at least a month to regenerate after use. Two, because it is intended to provide for furthering of the royal bloodline, it will only affect those opposite to my sex, females. Three." He stopped, his eyes hardening. Something in his expression made her shiver. "It is not for some kind of - wholesale production of Saiyans. It is intended as a gift, a mark of HONOR!" Vegeta's voice rose to a roar, making her jump back in fear. "For my intended mate, one who has proved worthy in my eyes, should she for some reason not be Saiyan! Not an accident brought on by drug induced confusion - I have disgraced my line, giving my first bite to a worthless human who is not even a fighter!"  
  
He was so caught up in his rant that he did not see Bulma's expression change from fear to anger. So her slap caught him entirely off guard. Additionally, the Annar had already elevated her strength - her ki level was equal to Krillin's at this point - and since he was not powered up or on guard he was actually thrown back a few feet.  
  
There was a breathless pause as they stared at one another in shock, Vegeta's hand slowly reaching up to wipe a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.  
  
"I'm sorry things worked out this way," Bulma said honestly. "But don't you dare sit there and insult me! I may not be a fighter, but I'm the genius who designed the GR to withstand the higher levels so YOU could progress in your training! If - no, WHEN - you ascend to super-Saiyan, it will be at least in part because of ME!" His eyes widened as if he had not considered this before. "I'm sorry you bit me, I'm sorry you lost your 'first bite' to me, I'm sorry you don't consider me worthy to be a Saiyan but don't you fucking dare call me worthless you arrogant condescending son of a bitch!"  
  
And then she did the only thing that kept Vegeta from responding with fury; she sat down and wept.  
  
He had annihilated countless worlds and races. He had fought against the most powerful being in the known universe. He trained his body in gravitational forces over 100x what his body was designed to withstand.  
  
But he had no idea what to do with a weeping woman!  
  
Vegeta stared at the woman, helpless, and angry at his helplessness. He wanted to be furious at her, but her words hit uncomfortably close to home. The situation wasn't her fault, no matter how he tried to twist it. And as to him owing her for the ascension to super-Saiyan, when he reached it - he didn't want to think about that. His eye twitched and he forced himself to speak words utterly alien to him. Pride and honor demanded it.  
  
"I - retract my last statement," he bit out curtly. She looked up at him; astonishment on her face even as her large blue eyes still ran with tears. "You are correct - you are not worthless. Pathetic maybe," he added, refusing to budge an inch more than he had to, "but not worthless. My tail is proof of that, at least."  
  
Bulma blinked away the last of her tears. Was VEGETA apologizing? She almost couldn't believe it - until his addition of 'pathetic'. Yeah, this was as close to an apology as she was going to get from the stubborn prince. She wiped her eyes and nodded. Anything else she could deal with, but worthless, well, worthless was an insult that hit too close to her own insecurities for her to bear. Vegeta was looking extremely uncomfortable, and she decided that the best way to handle things was to proceed as if nothing had happened.  
  
"So - why are we here, anyway?" Relieved at the change of subject, the Saiyan prince briefly explained his reasoning. They would stay here while she came through the Annar, and then he would school her on the Saiyans and train her enough that she would not be a disgrace. Bulma accepted that without argument, privately a bit curious about what he would teach her.  
  
"Wait - come through the - you mean, I'm not done being sick yet?" She picked up on one of his earlier statements. Vegeta snorted.  
  
"Do you have a tail? Have you acquired proper fangs?" He bared his own in demonstration. She swallowed hard and shook her head. "You are in the middle of the Annar - if it was a storm, it would be the 'eye'."  
  
"Uh, Vegeta - the second half of a storm, the part after the eye, is always much worse than the first. That wouldn't happen to correspond to this would it?"  
  
The devilish smirk he gave her was all the answer she needed. Bulma swore.  
  
"What are you complaining about, woman? I am the one who must put his training on hold to care for you over the next week." Ignoring her outraged shriek, he turned to the forest. "Stay out of trouble while I hunt." Vegeta tossed her a capsule case and disappeared into the dense jungle.  
  
Bulma muttered a few uncomplimentary things under her breath and examined the capsule case. It was one of her spare ones, holding very random odds and ends. There were five capsules total. There was her old motorbike, a collection of odd machine parts she had been meaning to fix - and the tools for it, thankfully - an experimental capsule tent for hikers who didn't want all the amenities of a capsule house, several boxes of photographs she had never gotten around to sorting, and lastly - "A communicator!" She cried in delight. This was lucky; it was a portable communicator that patched into the one in her father's lab. She set it up and fussed with the dials until she got a good connection. Her father answered almost immediately.  
  
"Hmm? Bulma?" He looked like he was in the middle of one of his projects. Kitty mewed at her from his usual place on Dr. Briefs shoulder. "How are you doing, dear?"  
  
"Not bad, Daddy," she replied. It did not faze her that her father was quite unconcerned about her absence - he was the most absent-minded individual she knew. And considering she knew Goku that was saying a lot. "Vegeta's taking good care of me." Though it galled her to admit it.  
  
"Yes, he left us a note saying he knew how to treat your illness, that it was common on his planet." She snickered at the idea of the touchy Saiyan leaving her parents a note. Very prudent, if he didn't want the rest of the gang coming after him thinking he'd kidnapped her!  
  
"It's a bit more complicated than that, Daddy." Bulma explained to him what precisely what was going on. Being as much a scientist as she, he was fascinated. Being her father, he was a little concerned.  
  
"Will you look for a way to reverse it, or gather those dragon-thingies to wish yourself human again?"  
  
"The dragon balls were just used, so I would have to wait a year anyway. And this will put me in an excellent position to research Saiyan physiology."  
  
"Good point, dear. Oh, your mother was fussing about you and Vegeta not getting your Christmas presents, so I'll send them to you now."  
  
"I'm not sure where we are," she said, looking around. It could be just about any random island of those scattered about the area.  
  
"That's fine; I'll triangulate on the communicator and have the Mini-cap bring them to you."  
  
The Mini-cap was a neat little invention of her own design. Not much larger than her two hands together, it was sort of a mini helicopter. It could transport several capsules up to a hundred miles simply by inputting the coordinates for its landing. While she was thinking about it, she told her father to send along a few other things - like a capsule house, a first aid kit, a change of clothes, and the like.  
  
"Certainly. I'll see you later, dear."  
  
"Tell Mom I love her. Merry Christmas!"  
  
"Merry Christmas."  
  
Smiling, she turned off the communicator and sat down to wait. Then Bulma winced and held her stomach as it growled. She was really very hungry. Wryly, she realized that food bills were going to go up at her house if she gained a Saiyan appetite. Her stomach continued to complain, and her temper began to rise as it did. What was taking Vegeta so long, anyway? A horrible thought came to her. What exactly was he hunting? He wasn't going to come back with centipedes and wolves like Goku had, was he?  
  
She should have known Vegeta was never one to do things halfway.  
  
There was a distant explosion and the sound of some animal roaring. Nervously, she stood up and retreated to the cave. Her experiences with large hungry animals on Namek were very fresh in her mind. A rapidly growing shadow on the ground outside caught her attention, and just as she took a step forward a very large, very dead dinosaur fell out of the sky to land by the cave. The ground shook; Bulma screamed.  
  
"What the hell are you shrieking about, woman?" Vegeta landed near the dinosaur.  
  
"You scared the hell out of me you jerk! What the fuck are you DOING?" He turned his back on her and began to cook the enormous beast with a steady ki blast from his hands.  
  
"I am getting food for myself and you, ungrateful wench." Bulma fumed.  
  
"DON'T CALL ME THAT! And I am NOT," her voice faltered as her nose caught the scent of fresh blood and cooking meat. "Not eating that," she swallowed as her mouth reacted to the smells by salivating "disgusting half raw thing." By now she had unconsciously taken several steps forward till she was nearly even with Vegeta. He turned his head and smirked at the look of undisguised hunger on her face.  
  
"Suit yourself woman. But if you are not well stuffed with food - fuel - the second part of the Annar will be that much more painful. Your body will be forced to draw off interior reserves rather than what is in your stomach." He tore a chunk of warm meat off and took a large bite, relishing the taste. Saiyans were carnivores by nature, and meat was an essential part of their diets. He watched as the woman fought against her changing dietary requirements and lost. Giving him a glare that probably could have fried a hole through anyone else, she hesitantly approached the carcass.  
  
"Umm, Vegeta?" He raised an eyebrow as he tore off another chunk. "How do I do this?"  
  
"I thought you were a genius, woman," he smirked. Oh, she was mad now. He nearly laughed at the look of fury on her face. His tail uncurled from his waist to swing lazily behind him in amusement.  
  
Never mess with a hungry genius.  
  
Bulma's eyes narrowed and she darted forward, far faster than she had previously been capable of. In the blink of an eye, she had snatched the meat from Vegeta's hands and stood several feet away. She took a large hungry bite, right over his own teeth marks, and shuddered, caught between mental revulsion and physical hunger. Vegeta, peculiarly, had not reacted. He stood as if transfixed; staring at her as she rapidly devoured the food. Finishing, she licked her fingers and gave a triumphant smile.  
  
"Ha! What do you think of that, you stuck up jerk?"  
  
He blinked and shook his head, eyes unreadable. Still not speaking, he sliced several more pieces off the carcass before turning back to her.  
  
"Do not do that again woman." Bulma frowned at his tone. It was not angry so much as strained, and even a little bit - no, it could not be THAT. But she could almost swear he sounded a tiny, tiny, miniscule bit - afraid.  
  
"Why not? You wouldn't help me out." His mouth twisted into a semblance of his normal smirk.  
  
"Because you just enacted the first part of a Saiyan mating ritual, woman." 


	4. Instincts

Disclaimer: see other chapters!  
  
A/N: I apologize for this being so very late, but...midterms and work interrupted. Thank you to all my reviewers – and maybe this will calm some of the more insistent ones, lol?  
  
A Tail Tale, Chapter Four  
  
Bulma thought that if she blushed any further, her face was going to catch on fire.  
  
"I - I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," she stammered. Vegeta still looked a bit tense, but he nodded.  
  
"You had no idea - which is the only reason I'm not blasting you!" He added harshly. Then he began to grumble about dense earth females who had no idea what they were doing, so she figured that he was getting over her little faux pas. Her stomach growled loudly, demanding more, and she fell on the pieces he had cut off for her ravenously.  
  
Feeling a bit less stressed, Vegeta watched her out of the corners of his eyes as he himself ate. He had never been so startled as when she had snatched the meat from him. Hell, he had almost forgotten that aspect of the mating ritual until she'd gone and DONE it. After all, he hadn't seen a saiyan female in decades, and he'd been decidedly prepubescent at that time. Given the nature of his people, more than a few of the females could pound the shit out of any male who tried to force himself on a woman. And somewhere along the way of their evolution, the female came to be the one who had to initiate the serious mating ceremony. It was that way even among royalty. Oh, the prince could pursue a female as much as he liked, but SHE would decide if she would accept him as a full mate.  
  
He'd been having enough trouble sorting out what the hell was going on with him and this woman already. Waking up to his tail around her had been a bad shock. Tails were notorious for reacting to the unconscious desired of the owner. It was half the reason they were normally wrapped tightly around the waist! Difficult for a warrior race that prided itself on emotional restraint (except for those emotions suited to battle) to have an appendage that easily expressed the very emotions they buried.  
  
That his tail had wound itself around her and held her close was a dangerous sign. It signaled that somewhere deep down, he not only did not consider her an enemy, but also found her - he gritted his teeth and refused to even think the word - TOLERABLE. Tolerable. That was ALL, he insisted to himself, and returned to his meal.  
  
Bulma absently licked her fingers and wondered how she could get Vegeta to tell her about such things as saiyan relationships and 'mating rituals'. Part of her was appalled at her copious consumption of barely cooked dinosaur flesh. The other, steadily growing part of her relished the fresh meat. At least, she consoled herself, it wasn't centipedes.  
  
A buzzing noise caught both their attention. Vegeta snapped on guard, but Bulma laughed.  
  
"Oh good, it's the Mini-cap!"  
  
"The what?" Demanded her reluctant companion, but was interrupted as the tiny transport dropped out of the sky. It hovered a moment above the communicator, then gently landed on it. The blue haired genius grinned in delight. She removed the capsules it carried and showed them to Vegeta.  
  
"What do you need all this shit for, anyway?" he grumbled. She glared at him.  
  
"Maybe YOU like sleeping on the ground, monkey boy," (he growled at the nickname) "but I don't like it one bit. Not to mention how badly I need a bath right now." Bulma popped open the capsule house, a small two bedroom, and one kitchen and bathroom affair. "Besides, there's something here that will make you very happy." Walking into the house, she popped a second capsule, materializing a gaily wrapped pile of Christmas presents.  
  
"You are so damned soft, woman," Vegeta muttered in disgust, following her indoors. She stuck her tongue out at him. "Mature, too."  
  
"Oh come on, Vegeta, cheer up! These are our Christmas presents!" She sat down in one of the bedrooms and began separating them into two piles. Reluctantly curious, he followed her in and leaned against the wall. More of this Christmas bullshit.  
  
"I thought restoring my tail was your gift to me," the saiyan said, eyeing the packages suspiciously.  
  
"It was. Is. But Mom and Dad got you something, too. And the tail was just your main present." She pushed a small pile of presents towards him. He looked at them. "Well, aren't you going to open them?" Her blue eyes pleaded with him. Bulma was very fond of Christmas, and she regretted missing it as she had. Vegeta, on the other hand, had never been given a gift that he could remember until the damn woman had restored his tail. That thought in itself, combined with (though he absolutely would not admit it) the pleading look in her eyes, made him grimace and sit down cross- legged. He picked up a package at random and looked it over suspiciously. Bulma realized that he'd never done this before, and picked up one of her own.  
  
"This one's from my Dad," she said, pointing to the label. Gleefully she tore the paper off and opened the heavy box. Her eyes went wide at the sight of a new set of tools, including some of the latest designs by the company. "Oh wow! This is great!" She hugged them in delight. "This is just what I need to start working on that regeneration tank Goku and Gohan described!" She noticed him looking at her in obvious confusion. "Go on, Vegeta, open one of yours."  
  
A bit hesitantly he tugged at the paper on one at random. It came off with ridiculous ease, making him wonder what the point was of putting it on in the first place. Opening the box, he was surprised and gratified to see several new training outfits in his size. "That was my second present to you," Bulma said. "I noticed that the ones you had were pretty beat up." She took his short nod as thanks and opened another of her own. Getting a bit more into things, Vegeta opened a second. His exclamation of disgust made her look over. Her eyes went wide, and she groaned. Her mom had actually done it - knitted the mighty saiyan prince a pink sweater with a cheerful reindeer on the front of it.  
  
"Is this a joke?" he demanded. She shook her head in dismay.  
  
"No, it's my mom. Here, see?" Opening another package, she displayed a bright orange knitted sweater with a smiling snowman on it. He recoiled. "She tries so hard, but she just has so much trouble picking colors that people wear."  
  
"Unless they wish to direct traffic for your ridiculous vehicles," agreed Vegeta, looking at the garish gift. Bulma's mouth fell open.  
  
"I must be losing my hearing. Did you just make a joke?" He 'hmphed' at her.  
  
"All right, don't get your shorts in a knot. Here, open this one." She pointed out a small package wrapped in electrical tape. Scowling, he did so, almost blasting the stupid thing in the process.  
  
"What is with this ridiculous material?" he snarled, fighting with the sticky tape.  
  
"My dad. He always forgets the wrapping part until the last minute, and by then has to use whatever's on hand." Vegeta finally got the thing open, and frowned at the capsule contained within.  
  
"What is this?"  
  
She grinned. "It's a new GR, Vegeta. You blew up the old one so badly there was no point in repairing it." His eyes widened. "It can handle up to 1000x Earth's gravity, and can withstand ki blasts so you can practice to your heart's content. There's even a storage container of food built into it so that you don't have to leave it to eat if you don't want to."  
  
"Woman," he looked at her with astonishment. "I do not understand. Why would your father do this? Is it charity? Because if it is -!" She cut him off before he could get wound up.  
  
"It's not charity, Vegeta! Sheesh, you're touchy. One, it's part of our tradition to give presents to friends and family at Christmas."  
  
"I am neither friend nor family," he said stiffly. She rolled her eyes. "In case you haven't noticed, my folks think you're a 'wonderful boy, so hard-working and determined'." Her voice was obviously mimicking her mother's. Her eyes softened a bit. "Haven't you noticed that they're rooting for you, Vegeta?" His dark gaze met her blue one, obviously not sure of what she was saying. "One thing they are appreciative of - especially my dad - is hard work and fighting towards goals. They know how much you want to achieve super-saiyan, and they admire your determination." Bulma shrugged, going a bit pink across the face. "So do I, even. I mean," she stammered hastily when his head snapped up, "Everything just seems to come so easily to Goku. He's had all these advantages in his training, all these fantastic teachers – Kami, King Kai. You've had to do it all by yourself, and I have to respect that."  
  
His face was unreadable, but his mind was in turmoil. Vegeta had certainly never noticed the respect that the Briefs had for him. He had spent years under Freiza's boot, despite his rebellion still certainly a slave to the hideous warlord. Having any being besides Nappa and Raditz look at him with anything except contempt or maybe fear was utterly alien to him.  
  
"I - am going out to train," he said roughly, standing up. "Stay close by - I do not wish to have to hunt you down because you've collapsed when the Annar came upon you again." He stalked out of the house, popped the capsule with his new GR, and commenced with some heavy-duty training. It was the only way he could clear his mind of the disturbing thoughts and invasive feelings he was experiencing.  
  
Inside the capsule house, Bulma sighed. She would never let him see how badly she felt for him sometimes. He would never accept her sympathy, viewing it as pity. Goku had told her about Vegeta - about his death at Freiza's hands, about his last words. He might be an arrogant aggravating attractive (where had THAT come from?!) son of a bitch, but he had still had a more brutal life than anyone deserved.  
  
She finished opening her presents, a bit more somberly, and then treated herself to a long luxurious bath. It was in the tub, of course, that she noticed some of the physical changes taking place from what Vegeta called 'the Annar'. Her slim body had taken on a firmer look, with all her muscles clearly defined, yet still curvy enough to be feminine. Her skin tone had darkened just a bit, and any freckles or birthmarks had vanished. She remembered how quickly she'd snatched the food from Vegeta, and how her slap had actually made him bleed, and knew that her strength and speed were much increased. No matter how much she washed and conditioned her hair, it still remained spiky. That was annoying, but at least it was still blue. She hoped THAT did not change; she liked her unique hair color!  
  
Her stomach was very full, and the warm bath made her sleepy. She dressed in comfortable, pretty blue-green pajamas and climbed into one of the beds. Her mind wandered over several questions she was going to have to ask Vegeta. Would she turn into a giant ape under the full moon? She shuddered. How often did saiyan females cycle? The thought of his face at THAT question made her giggle. How strong would she be? How strong COULD she be? Would her tail be as sensitive as Goku's had been? Would she be able to throw ki attacks?  
  
And WHAT was with the purring?  
  
Giggling at the memory of Vegeta's deep purrs, she settled back against the pillows and snuggled down to sleep.  
  
Hours later, an exhausted, battered, thoroughly beaten Vegeta stumbled out of the new GR. Dragging an arm across his weary eyes, he fell upon the dinosaur carcass without pause, tearing and gulping down large hunks of half raw meat until his voracious appetite was finally satisfied.  
  
Today's training had been an exercise in humility for the saiyan prince. He had come to the painful conclusion that it was no longer his power level that was holding him back. He was strong enough to become a super-saiyan now, and yet he still had not. The trigger was not merely power, and he was damned if he could figure out what it was.  
  
Vegeta yanked open the door to the capsule house, fully expecting a loud protest from the woman. When silence greeted him, he scowled. Part of him had been looking forward to a yelling match with her; it would get rid of some of his aggravation. He stalked through the little house, sneering at the décor that HAD to be partially of the blonde woman's design. His nose led him to one of the two bedrooms, where Bulma lay asleep under heavy covers, curled up and shivering.  
  
He recognized that she had once again entered the Annar, and it would be futile to attempt to waken her from it. Growling softly in disappointment, he made a point of slamming the bedroom door as he found his way to the bathing chamber.  
  
The luxury of a hot shower was something Vegeta had no qualms about taking full advantage of. He briskly scrubbed down his body, only taking special pains with his tail. That he shampooed meticulously. Then the battered warrior turned the water temperature up to a point that would have scalded a frail human, and stood with arms crossed. The hot water pounding down on him gradually soothed away the aches and tension of all the training and frustration that had accumulated over the course of the day.  
  
He pondered as he soaked how to begin his training of the woman. Her power level was still rising just from the Annar, by now about even with the Namek. That, however, was still absurdly low for a saiyan. Training someone other than himself was new to Vegeta, and he continued to mull it over as he dried off and climbed into one of his new training outfits.  
  
A wicked smirk crossed his face as he considered several alternatives, any one of which would quickly have the woman in a frothing fury. That was not a bad thing. If she paused to over-think, it would be harder to train her. Perhaps driving her into a rage, which would be fueled by newly born saiyan instincts, was the way to begin her re-education in the way of the warrior.  
  
Vegeta slid into the bed in the other bedroom. He tossed the pillows off of it, disliking the way his head sank into them, and kicked the bedcovers aside as well. All he cared about was the mattress; he did not require the other trappings. A glance out the window showed the moon at three quarters full. He actually smiled ferally at the sight, anticipating the frightful power of once more transforming into his giant ape form, or Oozaru as his folk called it.  
  
Black eyes closed and his face smoothed out of its usual harsh lines as he allowed himself to drift towards sleep. He was almost there when he started hearing soft whimpering noises from the other room. Cursing, he tried to ignore them. But the sounds penetrated his awareness relentlessly, and he finally rose, tail lashing angrily, and stormed over to the room where his blue haired irritant lay.  
  
She was sprawled across the bed, sheets kicked to the side, face gleaming with sweat as she struggled unconsciously against the changes the Annar was wreaking on her body. The whimpers that had so annoyed him were emerging from between tightly clenched teeth as she shook with the raging fever.  
  
"Woman," he snapped harshly. "Wake up." There was no response. "WOMAN!" Still no answer. Scowl etched into his face, he strode to the bedside and glared at the suffering female as if that would somehow force her into awareness. A muscle jumped in Vegeta's jaw. How the bloody hell was he going to get any sleep if this whimpering persisted? It was disturbing him on a far deeper level than it should have. Was there something else going on? Something he was missing? He sat on the edge of the bed and touched her shoulder. It was burning hot even through the soft fabric of the clothing she wore.  
  
He was startled to feel his tail wrap firmly about the woman's body, the heat soaking into his fur. At the same time she rolled towards him, arms catching him about the waist and pulling him to her. Vegeta was not expecting the strength of that grip, and was yanked into the bed with her in a tangle of limbs. He swore, but his anger was strangely dulled. The heat emanating from her and the scent of her was doing odd things to him. His tail refused to leave her, and his arms had somehow gotten wrapped around her as well.  
  
What is going on? Vegeta screamed mentally, trying to fight off the confusion and lethargy. Then the still sleeping Bulma moved. She was already pressed right up against him; now she bit the juncture of his neck and left shoulder, not quite hard enough to draw blood. The prince's eyes flew wide as the instincts bred into him with the serum in his fangs were shocked to life by that action. Conscious thought fading, he pulled her to him even more tightly, his hands sliding down her back to rub soothingly at the spot where her tail would be.  
  
A deep rumbling purr started in his chest. The Annar had triggered the biting reflex in Bulma, and that in turn triggered the behaviors that would ease her transition from Vegeta. The combinations of things worked to sooth her fever and dull her pain. They lay tangled together asleep, and after a time a new purring, higher pitched. joined Vegeta's. A blue tail wrapped firmly around his middle while the Saiyan Prince slept, utterly undone by his instincts. He would be so angry in the morning... 


	5. Shall we dance?

Disclaimer: Other chapters. Read them. Find it there.  
  
A/N: Look at that, another chapter so fast! Well, appreciate it, who knows how long this speed will last. It all depends on how much I have to revise the chapters I am putting up...  
  
Tail Tale Chapter Five  
  
Bulma couldn't believe it. This was the second morning in a row that she had woken up held in Vegeta's arms!  
  
Well, it wasn't like she minded too much. He was really very warm and comfortable to lie against. And his scent was enough to make her want to purr. In fact, she realized with a bit of a start, she WAS purring, very softly.  
  
It was starting to dawn on her that several things were very different. She felt remarkable good right now, better than she had in the past few days. In a weird way, better than she had her whole life! Cautiously she sat up. Vegeta's tail was wrapped around her again, she noticed, and giggled a little. After convincing it to let her go, she slid off the bed and stood unsteadily. Her balance did not seem quite right. Wobbling a bit, she made her way over to the full length mirror.  
  
Her reflection looked as surprised as she felt. In addition to the muscularity she had noticed yesterday, her hair stood up in little spikes (A/N: Think Videl after Gohan convinced her to cut her hair.) Her skin was nowhere near as dark as Vegeta's, but still a few shades darker than it had been. In her upper jaw she had two small fangs, sharper and more delicate than the saiyan men's, and behind her -  
  
She stifled a shriek. Behind her a tail flicked idly to and fro. Carefully she caught it in her hands and pulled it around in front of her. It was a darker shade than her hair and eyes, midnight rather than sapphire blue, and the fur was soft and sleek. Also peculiar, not only did her hands feel her tail, but her tail felt her hands. It was obviously a solid part of her.  
  
Bulma swallowed hard as she tried to process all these changes. It was one thing to be told they would happen, and quite another to actually experience them.  
  
Speaking of odd things - how had she wound up in Vegeta's arms AGAIN? If it weren't for the fact that both times they were fully clothed, she would have been a lot angrier. Bulma wanted answers, and she wanted them now. A glint of mischief in her eye, she took a seat on the bed. The saiyan prince was still asleep, clearly exhausted. His tail flicked idly alongside him. She reached out and gave it a firm tug.  
  
And promptly found herself flat on her back with an angry Vegeta straddling her body. His face barely an inch from hers, he hissed,  
  
"Don't. Do. That. Again."  
  
"Good morning to you too," Bulma replied, un-intimidated. "Want to tell me why I woke up next to you AGAIN, or should I just guess that you're harboring an unrequited love for me?"  
  
Vegeta blinked, a bit nonplussed, and then gave a bark of laughter. "Hardly." His expression became wicked. "Considering that YOU pulled ME into your bed last night."  
  
"I did NOT!" she shrieked indignantly, struggling to get up. He continued to pin her there, looking decidedly pleased with himself.  
  
"You DID, woman. Now who is 'harboring an unrequited love'?" She went bright red at that, then redder still when he laughed at her.  
  
"GET OFF ME!"  
  
Not desiring burst eardrums first thing in the morning, Vegeta complied. He stood with tiger's grace, and scowled thoughtfully at her. Obviously the Annar was complete. She was as saiyan as she was going to get. Noticing him looking as she stood up, Bulma snapped,  
  
"What are YOU looking at?"  
  
"A saiyan with the most peculiar fucking coloration I have ever seen," came the swift reply. Unbidden a growl emerged from her throat, at which point she switched rapidly from angry to mortified.  
  
Vegeta laughed harshly at her again. This was the most entertainment he'd had in years. Maybe enough to make up for the complete aggravation the past few days had been. He still was not happy over last evening's foray into instinctive responses. But if the woman didn't remember it...who was he to bring it up?  
  
Bulma looked like she was going to explode, but a loud grumble pre-empted her. Looking embarrassed, she placed a hand on her empty and complaining stomach.  
  
"Truce until after breakfast?" She requested plaintively. He smirked, readying another taunt, but was interrupted by a protest from his own stomach. The curse of the saiyan metabolism. Instead of taunting her, he merely nodded in reply and stalked out to the dinosaur carcass. It was nearly gone; one more meal for the two of them would probably finish it off.  
  
Somewhat to his surprise, the woman did not hesitate today. She dug in without preamble, somehow managing to be dainty at the same time as she consumed triple her human portion. He shrugged and joined in the meal. When all the meat was gone, Vegeta cracked open one of the bones.  
  
"What are you doing?" Bulma asked curiously. He quirked an eyebrow at her.  
  
"The genius doesn't know about the sweetness of marrow?" He split the bone lengthwise and began to crunch on the tasty interior. The woman's expression hovered between repulsed and intrigued. Curiosity won out.  
  
"Does it really taste good?"  
  
"Try it," he suggested, holding out a chunk. As she reached for it he hesitated. Sharing the marrow in a kill was a lovers' tradition. Growling, he tossed it over to her before she could accept it from his hand. This wasn't Vegeta-sei, and he wasn't courting her, damnit!  
  
To his dismay, he suddenly found himself pondering what it might be like to actually court the woman. He shook his head violently, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. He did not need a mate! He needed to become a super-saiyan and defeat Kakkorot!  
  
"You're right, it is good!" Bulma smiled at him, and he felt a peculiar sensation in his gut at the sight of that radiant smile directed at him.  
  
It freaked the hell out of him.  
  
Bulma meanwhile narrowed her eyes just a bit. Her mind must be playing tricks on her. It almost looked like Vegeta was blushing. She dismissed the thought immediately and turned back to the capsule house.  
  
"Where are you going?" he demanded sharply.  
  
"To get dressed, 'Geta," she replied, rolling her eyes. His expression went from suspicion to outrage.  
  
"GETA?!"  
  
Snickering at his discomfiture, she darted towards the house. Only to run into what felt like a brick wall.  
  
"Oof!" Bulma rebounded, though nowhere near as badly as she would have if she were still human. Piccolo cocked a brow ridge at her, taking in her new form.  
  
"What are you doing here, Namek?" Demanded Vegeta harshly, annoyed that he hadn't sensed the green skinned being's approach. Piccolo must have pushed his power level down to almost nothing to get so close without detection. The warrior in question bared his long fangs in a sardonic grin.  
  
"When I sensed a new power level near to my own, I thought to investigate," he replied calmly. "Goku intercepted me and informed me that he had already been to the Briefs and learned of what was going on here." He snorted. "And that I should just 'leave you two alone'." Vegeta nodded grudgingly; of all the pathetic warriors on this planet, the Namek was the only one besides himself who did not take Kakkorot's word as gospel.  
  
"A power level near - I'm that strong now?" Bulma wheeled on Vegeta, amazed. "I'm as strong as him?"  
  
"In raw power, yes," the saiyan prince admitted. "However, in terms of fighting skill, he would probably destroy you in two hits. Three at most." He paused. "This brings me to my next point. Get some suitable clothing on, woman. You cannot train in those hideous pajamas."  
  
"Hideous?" Bulma bristled, tail whipping wildly from side to side. Piccolo surprised both saiyans by giving a sharp laugh.  
  
"Allow me," he rumbled, and held his hand over the blue haired woman's head. A soft glow surrounded her, and when it cleared she stood there clad in a training gi. It was neither as tight as Vegeta's spandex nor as loose as Goku's orange gi. Instead it was somewhere in between, sleeveless, snugly fitting and yet allowing for full freedom of movement. In color it was a pale blue with lavender and white trim. On the back was a unique symbol that identified her sensei as Vegeta.  
  
The prince nodded in approval while she exclaimed over her new outfit. He locked eyes with the curiously amused looking Namek. "Do not disturb us again. I will have no interference while I train her."  
  
"Don't worry. I am the only one who would not listen to Goku's instructions on that part." Piccolo nodded to Bulma, and with a flare of his cloak lifted into the air and soared away. Vegeta said not a word, but turned and headed into the GR. Bulma followed along behind him, her tail flickering excitedly as she chattered.  
  
"- really as strong as Piccolo? That means I'm stronger than Krillin or Tien or Yamcha! Ha, that's really great, imagine if I could beat up Yamcha because I never did pay him back for cheating on me with that - !" Her ramble was cut off abruptly as Vegeta cranked the power up to 50x earth's gravity. She hit the floor with a resounding thud, face first.  
  
"Rule number one, woman. I am in charge here." A muffled curse came from the prone figure on the floor. Vegeta watched in amusement as she struggled to get up. "That means no arguing with me. When I say jump, you had better be six feet in the air before you even ask which direction."  
  
"Power crazy son of a -!"  
  
Vegeta cranked the gravity up to 70. Bulma whimpered.  
  
"Rule number two. If you whine, I will blast you. Not until you are dead, but until you wish you were."  
  
She had managed to get into a sort of half push up position, her arms trembling. Yes, she had power, but no idea how to use it. Yet. He smirked evilly and turned the gravity up to 100. She collapsed again.  
  
"I will be over here. When you can walk over to me, I will begin your training." And he calmly walked across the room to the far wall, leaving a swearing, struggling Bulma behind.  
  
Having realized that strength was no longer barring his transformation to super-saiyan, Vegeta figured now was as good a time as any to explore the barrier further. Like probing your tongue into the space where a tooth used to be in the gum, it was impossible for him to resist. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift further and further within.  
  
Meanwhile, Bulma was pondering homicide. Or maybe that was saiya-cide. She was smashed flat on the floor of the GR with the weight of 100x earth's gravity pressing down on her. She couldn't even lift her tail off the floor.  
  
I hate him! She seethed. I can't believe I ever thought he was attractive, that stupid arrogant thick-headed bastard! To her surprise, with the anger came a surge of strength that allowed her to lift her head. Of course when the anger dissipated, she dropped it down again with a loud thunk.  
  
Of course! Bulma wondered why she hadn't thought of it before. She of all people, having watched Goku for so long, should know that anger elevated ki, and thereby increased strength.  
  
And of course anyone but a beautiful genius such as herself would have simply made themselves furious and used that to move. SHE however, knew that that surge of strength would only last as long as she could maintain her fury. Not good form. Bulma instead lay very still and called up as much anger as she possibly could. At the same time, she made a point to 'feel out' where the ki energy was coming from, how it affected her, and how it flowed.  
  
Then she relaxed again. It was a scientific approach to the situation, to be sure. Now that she sort of knew where it came from, Bulma attempted to summon her ki without anger. Minutes ticked by. Her forehead began to bead up with perspiration, but a whitish aura was slowly growing around her. It flared, dimmed, flared again, and then steadied.  
  
With measured, careful movements, she stood up under the immense pressure, running ki through her already strong muscles to bolster her. Her eyes gleamed with immense satisfaction at her first success in this very physical and utterly new realm of expertise.  
  
She glared at Vegeta, standing in apparent deep meditation before the far wall. His tail had come loose from its normal position around his waist and swayed temptingly behind him. A wicked plan formed in her mind, and she carefully and quietly walked across the room. Under ordinary circumstances, Vegeta would have noticed in a heartbeat. But he had underestimated the canny woman. Certain she would not move for hours, he had succumbed himself so entirely in his interior searching that he did not notice her moving. So Bulma managed without being detected to sneak across the GR and stand directly behind the prince.  
  
She paused for a moment, ki still forming a white aura about her, to savor the impending revenge. Then without further ado, she caught the end of his tail in one hand, and with the other ran her index finger all the way down it from base to tip. 


	6. Conflicts

Disclaimer: see chapter one A/N: Another chapter for you anxious readers. This chapter is a little naughtier than the other ones, so if you are not old enough chronologically or mentally to deal with that, please skip this chapter. Or read a fic of a lower rating. Thank you for your consideration.  
  
A Tail Tale, Chapter Six  
  
Whatever response she had expected, it was not exactly the one Bulma got. Vegeta spun around so fast that she barely saw him move and slammed her up against the wall of the GR. But then he pressed his body right up against hers, so close that she could feel his VERY evident arousal. His ebony eyes locked onto hers from scant inches away, almost glazed with extremely evident lust.  
  
"V-Vegeta?" she asked in a small voice. He blinked twice, his eyes clearing slightly, but did not move away.  
  
"You are either the stupidest or most infernally unlucky woman in existence," he said in a low voice that was hardly more than a growl. "You don't have any idea what you just did." Bulma managed to find her tongue again.  
  
"Come on, Vegeta, I just stroked your tail! It's not like I hurt you!"  
  
"You JUST stroked my tail, did you, wench? Here's what you JUST did!" He pulled her away from the wall and ran one hand down the base of her tail. Bulma's whole body stiffened as an immense sensation of physical pleasure and desire heated up her lower body. Just as strong was the sudden urge to - she stepped back, blushing furiously as her hindbrain made some interesting suggestions for what she might do with Vegeta.  
  
"It's - the base of the tail is - an erogenous zone?" she asked, still breathing a bit more quickly than normal. It no longer even occurred to her that she was standing under 100x earth's gravity; her body had acclimated.  
  
"Why else would the saiyan race keep what is for all but elite and royalty such a weakness?" he snapped. Despite Bulma's step back, they were still standing very, very close to one another. His acidic tone pissed her off. In a heartbeat she was pressed back up against him, her hand massaging his silky brown tail.  
  
"What's the matter, the great saiyan prince can't resist a little stimulation?" she mocked. His eyes, which had started to half close with pleasure, now narrowed at the challenge.  
  
"Better than you, pathetic human-born woman!" And his hand closed around her blue tail, stroking and kneading.  
  
The two stubborn, willful saiyans stood with no space between them, eyes locked and glaring while trying their damndest to stimulate the other into a loss of control. Their tails writhed at the sensuous assault, but other than that there was almost no movement.  
  
Vegeta forced his breathing to remain even despite the incredible sensations running through him. The woman was NOT going to best him. He knew saiyan anatomy better than her, his will was stronger, and he was the PRINCE! He managed a smirk and began to alternate his stroking of the tail with light caresses on the small of her back right above it.  
  
Bulma was having a hard time not melting under his touch, but her own pride and tenacity kept her fighting. He thought he was so great, so much better than her! She'd show him a thing or two. Reading all those romance novels had given her a few ideas. She bared her teeth unconsciously and slipped her other hand around him. Now she was using both her hands to massage his tail with alternating pressure.  
  
It is difficult to say how long this might have gone on, or what might have occurred next, had Goku not chosen that moment to check up on them.  
  
"Hi guys! How's - WHOA!" Goku's eyes went round at the sight before him, and the other two saiyans leaped apart. Bulma's face was bright red, and even Vegeta looked mildly flushed. Before they could say anything, Goku's eyes narrowed speculatively. He looked from one to the other, an uncommonly serious expression on his good-natured face. Vegeta drew himself up, ready to loudly refute any accusations flung his way.  
  
"Bulma, were you taking advantage of Vegeta?"  
  
Vegeta slammed into the ground face first, with Bulma a bare second behind.  
  
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT GOKU?" demanded Bulma at the top of her lungs. Goku winced.  
  
"Well, Master Roshi said that girls like you take advantage of - um - natural male tendencies. And you are kind of guy crazy, so I just thought maybe you were -"  
  
"AT LEAST I KNEW THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN BOYS AND GIRLS, GOKU! GET OUT OF HERE BEFORE I -!"  
  
With a loud "eep!" the bewildered saiyan vanished again. Bulma stood red- faced in the center of the GR, her aura flaring white around her in her fury. An unexpected sound made her turn around.  
  
Vegeta, the prince of all saiyans, the cold warrior who had destroyed hundreds of worlds - was laughing so hard he actually had to lean against the wall for support.  
  
"Stop laughing!" Bulma all but screeched. "It's not funny, damn you!" Vegeta, of course, disregarded her. He leaned against the wall, head thrown back; laughing until his face was red.  
  
"You - take advantage of me!" he managed between howls of mirth. She glowered, and in a fit of pure temper elbowed him in the stomach. He didn't even flinch, but caught her wrists and stared at her, his expression almost - but not quite - beyond a smirk and into a grin. "Should I fear for my virtue around you, woman?"  
  
Bulma yanked her wrists out of his hands and made a serious attempt to punch him in the face. Yet again he caught her arm, and calmly rearranged her fingers so that the thumb was on the outside of the fist.  
  
"Try to punch like that, woman, and you'll break your pretty little hand. Shouldn't a genius have noticed that?" He dodged easily as she swung at him again and again. They went around and around the GR, Vegeta goading her and evading every blow she tried. Bulma was so angry she could hardly see straight, and it was just that much worse that he would correct her form and attacks in that condescending tone of his. The prince, on the other hand, was enjoying himself immensely. He had to admit that the woman was very fast - with work, she would easily surpass his speed if not his strength. But that was not uncommon among saiyan females.  
  
He noticed that her tail was swinging loose behind her and gave it an admonitory yank while ducking under another attempted blow.  
  
"Wrap it around your waist in battle, woman! Only a child lets their tail swing free while fighting!" She actually snarled at him this time, her fangs glinting. He felt a little thrill of desire at the sight, but mercilessly crushed it. He noted with amusement that her tail took its proper position about her waist as she tried to kick him somewhere unpleasant.  
  
Vegeta WAS surprised when the first ki blast flew at him. Ki use was not an instinctive thing among saiyans or humans. He admitted to himself that he was mildly impressed as the ki barrage continued. She seemed to be a natural at ki manipulation, despite her glaring deficiencies in hand-to- hand combat. He got an even larger surprise when she began throwing specific attacks at him.  
  
"Kamehameha! Wolf Fang Fist! Special Beam Cannon! Destructo Disk!" Vegeta adroitly avoided every one of these, his mind racing. Of course, she had been observing these things for years. Given her intellect and natural ability, it was not too big a step from throwing raw ki to more shaped attacks, especially ones she knew very well.  
  
"GALLIC GUN!" The saiyan dove out of the way with a curse as one of his own trademark attacks was launched at him. That, he had not expected. He reminded himself not to underestimate her again as he smoothly turned the dive into a roll and came up into a crouch. But she was done; he noted signs of real exhaustion in her now. Her hands shook and her breath came in gasps. She had drained her ki level down to all but nothing. Anticipating what would occur next, Vegeta caught her in one arm as her eyes rolled up and she collapsed.  
  
"Damn fool woman," he shook his head and tossed her over his shoulder. After shutting down the gravity, he rummaged in one of the cabinets built into the wall. As he had thought, there were a few senzu beans stored there. Bulma and her father knew the prince's training tendencies too well. He propped her limp form against the wall and nudged her with his boot.  
  
"Wake up, woman." She stirred a bit and groaned. He placed the bean between her lips. "Chew," he ordered gruffly. Her face contorted slightly, but she did so. A moment later, her eyes opened and she straightened with a gasp.  
  
"What - Vegeta?" Bulma shook her head and blinked several times. "Was that a senzu?"  
  
"Of course. Next time don't use all your damn ki at once, idiot, it's a waste of the things to use them for exhaustion." He looked down his nose at her. She reddened and stood up, but the expected explosion did not occur. Her eyes went thoughtful.  
  
"You did that on purpose," she accused. He snorted.  
  
"Feh! I thought that should be obvious, woman." Vegeta's back went rigid as Bulma suddenly threw her arms around him. "What the hell are you doing?!"  
  
"I did it! I threw ki blasts just like you and the guys! I did it!" She was so excited she could hardly stand it. Imagine, her, the tag-a-long brains of the gang, fighting like the 'big boys'! It had always been a half wistful dream of hers, but despite her flights of fancy she had been too grounded in reality to ever consider it more than a daydream. "Thank you, Vegeta!"  
  
And caught up in the moment, she planted a kiss firmly on his lips.  
  
She had not meant anything by it, but he leaned into it, and suddenly it was more than just a quick peck. Her heart sped up as his tongue slid into her mouth, playing around her fangs. Instinctively she tried to reciprocate, but was not used to kissing anyone with such sharp teeth and cut her tongue on his canines. At the taste of blood Vegeta growled softly and drew her to him with arms and tail. Part of her brain wondered when the hell he had learned to kiss like this, but the rest of her was concerned with continuing it as long as possible.  
  
After the longest few moments perhaps of both their lives, they mutually broke apart. Bulma was tingling all over and could not quite catch her breath; Vegeta looked like someone had hit him over the head with a club.  
  
"I - I should go," Bulma stammered.  
  
"Yes, I must -"  
  
"Right, you have to train, I'll just, um,"  
  
"Practice using your ki, it's ridiculous that you can't even fly, woman."  
  
"I'll be flying by the time you come out for dinner!" she retorted, and fled the GR before Vegeta could respond. He shook his head, wondering what the hell had just happened, and slowly set the gravity upwards.  
  
Outside, Bulma broke into a swift run and didn't stop until she was standing on the sands of the beach a mile from their campsite. The run didn't even wind her, she noted, sinking down to the warm sand in a daze. Her tail would not stop flickering around despite her best attempts to still it. She could not get what had just happened out of her head.  
  
"He kissed back," she said absently, trying to take it in. What did it mean? Did it mean anything? Did she WANT it to mean anything? That thought brought her up short. This was VEGETA. He didn't care about anyone. Even if she was to sleep with him, there was no way she would get what she really wanted - love. Vegeta could not love her. He said it himself all the time, that love was for the weak, that it had no place in a warrior.  
  
She was surprised to feel dampness on her cheeks, and reached up to find she was crying silently. And she knew then; to her utter dismay she was starting to fall for him. Fear had long ago become respect, and now, somewhere along the line, respect had deepened into affection and maybe something more.  
  
"I don't believe this," she groaned miserably. "I can't fall for him, he won't love me back!"  
  
But no heart, human or Saiyan, ever listens to the head... 


	7. Oozaru means Big Monkey

Disclaimer: See chapter one A/N: Thank you all for your kind reviews. Here's the next installment!  
  
A Tail Tale Chapter Seven  
  
He could not get her out of his mind.  
  
Vegeta trained at an intense level even for him, pushing mind and body to their limits. Sweat poured off him as he executed kata after kata, blast after blast, in 350x gravity. But no matter what he did, he could not get her face out of his head, or her scent out of his nostrils.  
  
It was just a damn kiss!  
  
So many years of hate and rage had burned well-worn pathways through his brain. These other emotions struggling to be realized had to fight through old paths unused for years. He barely recognized them, and didn't know what to do with them. The taste of her blood lingered in his mouth, almost intoxicating. He had known, intellectually, of the importance of blood to his people. He had never till now understood some of the full ramifications of that.  
  
Sharing blood was an intimacy reserved for mates. Vegeta knew that it had simply been her inexperience with fangs, but still he could not shake the heady sensations it had stirred in him.  
  
No small part of him wished he could declare her training done and get as far away from her as possible. But his pride would not let him settle for halfway, and he knew damn well that he still had a lot left to show her - especially with tonight being the full moon. And a traitorous portion of his soul, a portion he had long thought dead and gone, yearned for more contact.  
  
It could not be. He had no wish for a mate, no matter how intelligent, beautiful, feisty - he snarled wordlessly - no matter WHO she was. This yearning was lust and nothing more; it had been too long since he had had a woman, and the fact that it was his first time exposed in his own maturity to a saiyan female was exacerbating the whole situation.  
  
Besides, she was human born and still knew nothing of their ways. She would never pursue him, nor initiate a courtship chase, nor accept the ritual presentation of a kill. That soothed his ruffled feathers somewhat. No matter what happened, they would not be joined in the saiyan way, and he would never pursue her in human fashion.  
  
His stomach voiced a loud complaint that echoed off the walls of the GR. With a slight grunt, Vegeta powered down and reset the gravity to earth's standard. He opened the door, wondering briefly where he would get tonight's meal. Was there food in that peculiar capsule house, or would he need to hunt again?  
  
"Vegeta!" The woman's voice assaulted his ears as he stepped out into the afternoon sun. He looked up, startled, to see the wench floating a bit unsteadily above him.  
  
"Told you I'd figure it out!" she shouted cockily down to him, hovering in place with a slight whitish aura around her. He admitted privately that he was impressed - it was astonishing how quickly she picked up ki techniques.  
  
"Too bad you still can't throw a decent punch, woman!"  
  
Not that she needed to know that, of course.  
  
Bulma landed a bit hard, scowling at him. Her tail was bristled with agitation and flicking sharply back and forth like an irritated cat's. He smirked.  
  
"You could at least say good job, Vegeta!" she snapped grumpily.  
  
"Good job, Vegeta," he sneered, watching her face turn the color of a ripe - what was that odd fruit? - tomato. But the twin grumbling sounds as two saiyan stomachs protested being empty forestalled the brewing cacophony. Bulma sweat-dropped, and Vegeta shrugged his shoulders slightly.  
  
"There's food in the house," Bulma said, shooting him an unreadable look. "Pre-made, so you can't complain about my cooking for once."  
  
"I wouldn't complain if you made something edible," he shot back, following her into the capsule house. She had no reply except to stick out her tongue at him.  
  
"Don't stick that out at me unless you intend to use it, woman," Vegeta enjoyed the mortified look that spread across her face.  
  
"Sorry, already did that once today." Her reply was haughty despite her obvious embarrassment. Then she started placing food on the table, cutting off the verbal sparring match. They ate in silence, looking at each other when they thought the other wasn't looking. When the meal was done Vegeta cleared his throat.  
  
"Can that mini-cap thing of yours get me something from your dwelling?"  
  
"Sure can," Bulma replied proudly. "What do you need?" She enjoyed showing off her creations.  
  
"Two pairs of the armour I brought with me," came the curt reply. Wondering what he was up to, she went out and spoke with her father on the communicator, then sent off the mini-cap.  
  
"It should be here within the hour," she told her somber faced companion, and headed towards the bathroom. Her muscles would appreciate a long hot soak.  
  
But Vegeta stepped in front of her, blocking her way.  
  
"Don't get comfortable yet, woman. Training is not done for the day."  
  
"WHAT? Vegeta, I'm tired, I'm dirty, I'm smelly, I don't want to do anything else today!"  
  
"I didn't say you had a choice, woman." He crossed his arms over his chest. "You can soak yourself into a damn raisin later."  
  
"You can't stop me!" The moment the words were out of her mouth she was aware how ridiculous they sounded. Vegeta just smirked.  
  
"I can blow up the bathing chamber, woman. Then you can bathe in the cold stream outside for the rest of our time here."  
  
"You wouldn't dare!" she gasped, and knew from his expression that he certainly WOULD dare. Defeated, she retired grumbling to the kitchen and sat sipping a cup of hot chocolate quite sulkily. She studiously ignored Vegeta except to huffily toss him the capsule with the armour when the mini- cap arrived.  
  
He vanished into his room and emerged a few minutes later clad in one set and holding the other.  
  
"Put it on," he ordered gruffly, tossing it to her. Bulma caught it and gave him an incredulous look. "You know it will fit you, woman, weren't you the one making all that noise over the unstable molecule design?"  
  
"I know it'll fit! I want to know WHY I have to put it on!"  
  
"Because," he replied, "I said so." She opened her mouth to yell - and he raised a glowing hand in the direction of the bathroom. His meaning was obvious. Swearing under her breath, Bulma stormed into her room, stripped off the gi Piccolo had created for her, and pulled on the armour. It smelled of Vegeta, and when she caught her tail curling and uncurling happily at said scent, she wrapped it firmly around her waist.  
  
He gave her a once over as she came out of the room, and nodded in approval. Vegeta motioned towards the door and followed her out of the capsule house.  
  
"Follow me," he said simply, and rose into the air. Bulma followed, her flight surprisingly steady, and they rocketed eastward. They didn't say a word to each other the entire way. To both their surprise, she had no trouble keeping up with his rapid speed despite their vast difference in power levels. Not that either one mentioned it, of course.  
  
They eventually came to land in a rocky area filled with mesas and valleys. Bulma looked around, puzzled, noting that some of the rocks looked as if they had been blasted apart. Understanding dawned.  
  
"Isn't this where you fought Goku for the first time?" she asked, breaking her self-imposed ban on speaking to him. He nodded once, his eyes on the horizon. She followed his gaze, but saw nothing.  
  
"Vegeta, what are we doing here?" she complained.  
  
"Be silent, woman." He sat down cross-legged and closed his eyes. Vegeta really wasn't one for meditation, but he knew it would annoy her. "We have a little time yet. Sit down, close your eyes, and be silent."  
  
Trying not to let him succeed in getting a rise out of her, Bulma did as he said. If he was annoyed, he showed no sign. They sat in silence as the sun sank below the horizon and the shadows lengthened across the earth.  
  
A tap on one of her knees made Bulma open her eyes. Vegeta was looking at her, his tail poised to tap her again if she did not respond. On seeing her eyes open, he withdrew it.  
  
"There is a full moon tonight," he said in a low voice.  
  
For a moment she did not understand. Then memories of Pilaf's prison chamber and Goku's first Tenchi Budokai came to mind. Nameless dread filled her, and she clapped both hands over her eyes and threw herself face first onto the ground.  
  
"Woman, what are you DOING?" demanded Vegeta, exasperated.  
  
"No way!" she exclaimed, her voice muffled. "I don't want to! You can't make me! I'm NOT going to be some giant rampaging ape!" Now he did roll his eyes, and picked her up by the arms. She stubbornly kept her eyes tightly closed.  
  
"Woman, you cannot be a saiyan without experiencing this. The Oozaru is as much a part of our nature as fighting. It is something to be -" he hesitated, '-enjoyed, not feared."  
  
"Tell that to Goku. He killed his grandpa as that ooza-whatever." He growled lightly and gave her a slight shake.  
  
"Kakkarot is not normal, woman. Had Vegeta-sei not been -" the prince paused for less than a heartbeat, "-destroyed, his father would eventually have come to retrieve him. He would have been taught to control the Oozaru state."  
  
She still refused to look at him. But Vegeta would not be so easily thwarted.  
  
"I can teach you, woman, tonight, how to control yourself in that form. Or are you going to keep your eyes closed like a coward? Will you refuse to learn and some night accidentally look upon the moon and kill all those around you?"  
  
"No!" Bulma opened her eyes and found herself less than an inch from Vegeta's face. His mouth curled into a smirk.  
  
"Good." He let her go and paced several steps away. "The moon is up. Do not look on it until I give the word." A feral grin, the first she had ever seen, crossed his face. "I will go first."  
  
And he looked up into the night sky at the glorious full moon. Bulma looked on, trembling, as his back stiffened and his eyes went crimson. Vegeta began to change rapidly, and in moments the spiky-maned giant ape towered over her, still clothed in the armour. Now she knew why he had made her put it on.  
  
She swallowed hard, fighting the urge to run for her life as Vegeta-oozaru turned his gaze down to her.  
  
"IT HAS BEEN TOO LONG," he said in a louder and deeper voice. Of course, it was coming from a much larger chest cavity. "YOU CAN LOOK NOW, WOMAN."  
  
Bulma licked her lips nervously, and slowly, slowly, turned her gaze towards the moon. For a moment nothing occurred, and she wondered if perhaps he was wrong and it would not work.  
  
Then a sensation like a bolt of lightning striking jolted through her body. Her heart began to hammer loudly in her chest, and all her joints locked. A snarl forced itself from her lips and a burning fury exploded in her brain, wiping out all conscious thought.  
  
Vegeta stepped back to give her room as her transformation proceeded. He waited, huge tail lashing, as Bulma-oozaru roared her fury to the night sky. She was an interesting sight. Like all females, her form was nowhere near as bulky as a male oozaru, and her muzzle somewhat shorter as well. On top of that, her fur was the same odd coloration as her tail, a deep blue that all but glowed in the moonlight.  
  
Eyes red and mad, she turned to look at him and roared in challenge. He laughed to himself and braced for her charge. There was not a hint of thought in those eyes. Now to bring her out of it.  
  
He met her charge squarely and twisted his muzzle out of her reach as she attempted to slash him with her fangs. They grappled back and forth as she tried her best to savage him and he to get her in a secure hold. This was why Oozaru training was one of the first things a young saiyan was exposed to; without it they would blindly attack anything and anyone, friend or foe.  
  
He was far stronger than she, and eventually he managed what he was aiming for. He wrapped his own long arms around her, pinning her arms to her sides, his chest to her back, and sat down with a crash that shook the landscape. She was unable to get out of this grip, nor use any of her weapons on him. Ignoring the roars and growls of fury, Vegeta began a purr so deep it was almost subsonic. This was a very specific noise, one that cut through layers of animal fury and projected calm into the furthest reaches of the mind.  
  
In fact, it was the purr that under normal circumstances a saiyan would be exposed to immediately after birth, either from mother or father or, if they were being sent on a purging mission, from speakers installed in the space pod. Despite being born human, Bulma's saiyan instincts were geared to respond to it. Slowly, her snarls and struggles stopped. Vegeta continued to purr as she gradually relaxed.  
  
Bulma didn't know when it had happened, but suddenly she was sitting on the ground with Vegeta purring at her back - and holding her in such a way that it was all but impossible to move.  
  
"VEGETA?" she said, and her voice startled her. She managed to look down, and her eyes widened at the sight of her fur-covered body. The sound she made was as close to a squeak as a giant ape could produce. The saiyan behind her stopped purring and growled a laugh. He let her go and she scrambled awkwardly to her feet. It was disorienting to see the world like this. She looked at Vegeta in astonishment, now that she could meet his slightly glowing red eyes.  
  
"I TOLD YOU, WOMAN," he said smugly.  
  
~~~  
  
Bulma was not happy to find out she had to stay in this 'oozaru' form until the moon went down. After much whining on her part, Vegeta reluctantly agreed to allow her time to bathe and sleep tomorrow, rather than continuing with training immediately.  
  
"FINE, WOMAN! I WILL HAVE TIME TO TRAIN MYSELF, THEN, RATHER THAN WASTE IT ON YOU."  
  
Bulma-oozaru grinned in triumph, but before she could say anything the last bit of the moon finally slipped below the skyline. Both saiyans began to dwindle and change, until they stood on the plain once again in humanoid form. Vegeta stretched and looked pleased; Bulma collapsed.  
  
He looked at her with one eyebrow raised as she sat up rather dizzily.  
  
"Sorry," she grimaced. "For some reason - that took a lot out of me."  
  
"It was your first transformation, woman," he replied, wrapping his tail around his waist. "The next time you will be energized, not tired."  
  
She tried to get up, and after several failed attempts managed it. Her aura flared about her and she rose into the air. Less than five feet above the ground, said aura sputtered and died. She landed unceremoniously and looked embarrassed. Bulma sheepishly realized she was too worn out to fly.  
  
Vegeta realized the same thing. With an extremely put-upon look on his face, he picked her up and rose into the air.  
  
"Thanks, Vegeta."  
  
He just grunted.  
  
Bulma leaned her head against him, enjoying the ride. Usually she was terrified when carried, but not anymore. Not after having flown herself. The thoughts she'd had on the shore yesterday came unbidden to her mind, and she blushed slightly at how much she appreciated being held close to him.  
  
Another idea came to mind right on the heels of the first. Was Vegeta really so impossible? His behavior toward her had bordered on gentle of late - at least when he thought she wasn't paying attention - and she knew he was at least somewhat attracted to her.  
  
Maybe, maybe. Bulma licked her lips nervously, and asked,  
  
"Vegeta?"  
  
"What now, woman?"  
  
"Why not relax with me today instead?"  
  
He almost dropped her in disbelief. Fortunately his self control was so great that 'almost dropped' for him meant all she noticed was a tensing of his muscles.  
  
"Why the hell would I do that woman?"  
  
Bulma persevered. He hadn't threatened her or rejected the offer out of hand, exactly.  
  
"You've been awake for hours, too. And you trained so hard yesterday - even for you, I mean." She caught his glance. "Of course I noticed, you big oaf!" The blue haired saiyan experimentally touched his neck and shoulders. "You're all knotted up. Tell you what - we both get cleaned up and catch a few hours sleep, and then I'll give you a massage to get all those knots out of your back. What do you say?"  
  
Vegeta was sorely tempted. Trying to train any further without rest and food would probably do more damage than good at this point. Before he could stop to think of the possible ways this could be a bad idea, his traitorous mouth replied,  
  
"Fine, woman."  
  
And when she squealed with delight and planted a kiss on his cheek, he was too busy trying to convince himself that he did NOT like it that he did not take back his agreement.  
  
There was the usual argument back at the capsule house over who got to bathe first, but since Bulma knew how to get the pre-made food ready for eating, she won that one. Frankly, it came down to either he let her go first or he would have to a) figure out the food himself or b) go hunting again. With ill grace, Vegeta conceded the bathroom to her.  
  
When they had both bathed and consumed far more food than any human could possibly match in one sitting, Bulma yawned and headed for her bedroom. A few hours sleep before giving Vegeta his massage would do her a world of good. She was stopped at the door, however, by a snide remark from said saiyan prince.  
  
"Try to remain in your own bed this time, woman."  
  
Her tail bristled and her glare would have peeled paint off a house. He merely smirked back at her as he headed for his own room. But she was, if nothing else, quick on her mental feet. Smirking in her own right, she shook her head with mock dismay.  
  
"I don't know, Vegeta. It'll be hard to get to sleep without you purring for me like you did the last two nights in a row." And she slammed the door on his startled and vaguely mortified expression. Inside the room, she performed her own silent rendition of a touchdown dance. Point for her!  
  
Vegeta ran through the six quickest ways to kill her before deciding it wasn't worth the hassle. Besides, if she was dead, he wouldn't get his massage - and who would he have to argue with? Wondering when killing her had gone from 'when' to 'if'; he threw himself down on the bed for a well- deserved rest. 


	8. Pride and Consequences

Disclaimer: see chapter one A/N: Getting close to the end here. Hope you're all enjoying this fic!  
  
A Tail Tale Chapter Eight  
  
"Kami, Vegeta, what HAVE you done to your back?" Bulma scolded as she worked on the badly knotted muscles.  
  
Vegeta growled softly in reply, a bit unnerved by the position he was in. The woman had insisted that no one could be massaged properly through their clothes, so he lay facedown on his bed, stripped to the waist. She was straddling his back, her hands firmly kneading the flesh of his shoulders. She had not boasted; she was very good. He could feel knots being relieved that had been there so long he'd come to consider the discomfort normal.  
  
He felt her pause and run a finger vertically down his back, from shoulder to mid spine.  
  
"It's a scar from a beating, woman," he said gruffly, knowing what she was doing. Bulma was tracing one of several faint lines that ran down his back. "Frieza could use his tail like a whip if he so chose."  
  
"That's awful!" she said in obvious dismay. She was surprised to hear him chuckle deep in his throat.  
  
"They are badges of honor for me, woman. Every one marks a successful defiance of that Samui-jin bastard."  
  
"Samui-jin?"  
  
"Cold-people," he clarified. Bulma continued to knead his muscles. Her mouth was quirked in a wry smile as she felt him slowly relaxing beneath her hands.  
  
I'm not going to hurt you, oh suspicious prince, she thought to herself, amused.  
  
Aloud, she said,  
  
"Did the saiyans always work for them?" He shook his head slightly.  
  
"My father's father's father - my great-grandfather, you might say - entered into a contract with them. Until then we were strictly mercenaries. Hired out to the best offer - nothing personal. We fought for all sides and all ideologies - so long as they paid well."  
  
She said nothing, obviously considering that. Vegeta waited for the next question; now was as good a time as any to give her some education on the saiyan race.  
  
"What is the deal with the classes? I've heard you call Goku a third class, and Nappa referred to himself as an elite. What does that mean?" She was working her way down towards his lower back, which was in equally bad shape as the rest of him. Being so close to his tail, however, her massaging was stimulating some other responses. He was glad that his front was pressed towards the mattress.  
  
"After all, if saiyans increase in power level, it couldn't be based on that, could it?" she continued, apparently unaware of the reactions she was eliciting from him. He swallowed hard.  
  
"Yes and no, woman," he replied. "Third class was the lowest level, for most all children before adulthood and for the lowest level fighters. The Namek would be an example of a typical third-class power level. Second class was for those higher in level than third. Radditz was one such. First class was the highest class that the common saiyan could achieve under normal circumstances."  
  
Bulma, listening intently, 'accidentally' brushed the base of his tail with her hands. Sweat broke out on his forehead.  
  
"Elite," he continued hastily, not wanting to display weakness, especially after the little battle of wills Goku had interrupted in the GR, "was different from the lower classes. They were - the nobility of the saiyan race. There was no random matings among them, only deliberate matches geared towards producing the strongest offspring possible. Almost always the mates of royalty were chosen from these. My mother was one such."  
  
He was relieved when Bulma's hands began to work back up around his shoulders. "That was why neither mine nor Nappa's tail were - are - susceptible to the pain that plagues the other classes. It was bred out of Elites and royalty."  
  
"I think I see," Bulma said thoughtfully. "Was there movement through the classes?"  
  
"I was getting to that, woman!" he snapped. "Movement between the lower three classes was common. At least a third of all children would move to second class by their twentieth year. Second class could become first. Very rarely, a third class soldier might jump straight to first after a severe battle. But the change in class had to be petitioned and tested by the royal family -"  
  
"So that's why you still call Goku third class!" Bulma gasped at the realization. "It doesn't matter what his power level is, he hasn't petitioned you for -"  
  
"That brain damaged idiot will never do so," snarled Vegeta. His back tensed right back up. "He has no respect for his people or their ways. His brat is the same."  
  
"Calm down, you're undoing all the work I did," complained Bulma, quickly changing the subject and bearing down hard on his tightening muscles. He growled, but attempted to relax again.  
  
"Also rarely," continued Vegeta after a few moments, "a first class might be raised to Elite rank. This was the highest honor awarded to any lower class saiyan. It was not given out easily, nor to be taken lightly."  
  
Bulma thought for a moment, taking this new information in. Her tail brushed the backs of Vegeta's legs, making him curse silently to himself. His own tail wanted to respond; he could feel it trembling to entwine with the woman's tail. He fought with it briefly, before forcing it to move away from the woman's.  
  
"You said that royalty almost always took mates from the Elites. Why ALMOST always?"  
  
She WOULD pick up on that.  
  
"It was well known," growled Vegeta, "that the pairing of two high powered individuals would result in high powered offspring. Thus the arranged mating among the Elites. BUT it was also known that, for reasons no one understood, the result of a match of l-desire," he corrected hastily, "would often be absurdly higher in level. So when such things occurred, they were permitted." He smirked. "Before me, the highest powered royal brat born was the result of a match of desire between the queen and a third- class soldier."  
  
Somehow, during this, his tail got away from him. Bulma gave a startled squeak as her tail was suddenly entangled with another. Vegeta cursed and tried to pull away, but his tail remained where it was. Instead he wound up on his side, and the woman fell off him so that they were pressed chest- to- chest, tails tangled together.  
  
There was a long silence as they stared at each other. Vegeta forced himself to speak.  
  
"Get away from me, woman."  
  
"Your tail is the one doing the grabbing," she replied tartly, cheeks pink. "YOU move away."  
  
Not this again! Vegeta scowled.  
  
"I am not responsible for a wayward tail! Move."  
  
"If you aren't, who is? I'm not budging." She smirked in a manner all too familiar to him. Bulma was enjoying herself immensely. Vegeta hadn't managed to sneak that "l-desire" past her quick wits. So saiyans could and did love, hmm?  
  
Vegeta tried to ignore which bits of him were pressing against which bits of her. He wanted her, damn it, but the peculiar feeling that there was more than just lust behind it all made him refuse to act on it.  
  
"I do nothing on your orders, woman! Move away, NOW!"  
  
But Bulma sensed she had the upper hand here, and was all too willing to act on it.  
  
"I don't think so. You're the one whose tail caught mine, so you move first. If you don't want to move, fine." She shocked him by putting her arms around his neck and closing her eyes. "You're warm and you smell good. I'll just go to sleep until you decide to move away."  
  
His ki flared with outrage, but he could do nothing. If he moved, she won. And that was more than his pride would allow. Emotions warred within him, the primary one being so foreign to him that he almost trembled. Not anger, not lust, not fear, it had everything to do with the beautiful, stubborn, fiery, willful woman pretending to sleep beside him. He could not deal with it, and he lashed out verbally.  
  
"It will be just a FUCK, woman!" he hissed. Her eyes snapped open. "Nothing more. You will be nothing more than another whore to me, just one more fuck in a long line of fucks. It will not be the pathetic love that you humans search for or that idiot Kakkarot has bought into. You may be saiyan now, but you are still a weak, laughable human inside, nothing more."  
  
Her eyes widened, so full of hurt that a part of him cringed, and then hardened.  
  
"Fine, Vegeta," she said in a low, angry voice. "If that's the way you want to play it. Cuddle your useless pride to your chest and die alone."  
  
Bulma rose in one motion, yanking her tail away from his, and left the room. Vegeta let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, and rolled onto his back. Finally, things were as they should be. She knew her place now. This was exactly the way he wanted things.  
  
Wasn't it?  
  
~~~  
  
Bulma awoke with sore eyes and a stuffy head. It was not unusual in one who had cried themselves to sleep. She grimaced as she sat up, her tail waving listlessly. She caught hold of it and petted it lightly, whether in comfort to herself or the tail she was not really sure.  
  
Stupid Vegeta.  
  
She had cried silently so he would not hear, the arrogant prick. Slowly she got out of bed and cleaned her face of all traces of tears. He wasn't the only one with pride to maintain. Her hands clenched uselessly at the thought. Pride. Damn him and his pride!  
  
It was all the worse that she knew what he'd said was a lie. She could smell that he wanted her, to be sure, but she also sensed behind it more than mere lust. Vegeta had not mentioned that the minor psychic abilities of a saiyan would also come to her; perhaps he had not known. It was hard to make sense of the jumbled impressions she had gotten from his tumultuous mind.  
  
Yesterday, exhausted from crying and barely awake, she had yearned silently for the saiyan she unwillingly cared for. To her surprise, her mind had reacted by reaching out to the sleeping mind of Vegeta. It had been brief, that mental contact, but solid. Before she yanked her mind back where it belonged, she had learned two things.  
  
One, he did in fact on a deep level love her - possibly even the way she wanted him to.  
  
Two, that he had repressed that emotion and that fact so strongly that he was practically unaware of it.  
  
She brushed her hair with long, sure strokes, her muscles tense. Pride. He wasn't the only one who had it. If he was going to deny the truth, deny her, then fine, let him do so. She was Bulma Briefs, genius extraordinaire, and if he thought she was going to beg and plead - or submit to what he called "just a fuck" then he was dead wrong!  
  
Bulma pulled on her training outfit and picked a capsule from the ones her father had sent. Head high, she went to the kitchen and began to make food. Despite her initial impulse to just cook for herself, she instead made enough for her and the prince. He wasn't awake yet, but so what? He could deal with cold food!  
  
She ate quickly and neatly, not spilling a crumb, and went outside. The new gravity room gleamed in the early morning sunlight. Another impulse, wreck the damn thing! She quelled that one, too. No need to give him any reason to hassle her. With a click and a dull explosion, she detonated the capsule she'd brought out with her. It was an old version of the GR - not up to his Highness's standards anymore, but fine for her!  
  
Bulma stepped into the old GR and set the gravity up around 150, pleased to find this tolerable. Drawing on what she had seen Vegeta and the other warriors do, she began to shadowbox around the room.  
  
It hurt - oh it HURT like nothing else - but she would not be put down by mere heartache. When her first love had died, she had pursued the dragonballs across space to bring him back. Now her second love would not admit that he loved her, not acknowledge her as anything more than a potential one-night stand.  
  
She trained in the GR and refused to let him see her pain.  
  
~~~  
  
Vegeta awoke from dreams of a certain blue tailed saiyan and snarled viciously. He threw on a clean training outfit and stormed out of the room. There was food on the table, obviously waiting for him.  
  
It was also stone cold, but he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of complaining. The wench needed to learn her place, that was all! He sat down and shoveled his meal down his throat, ignoring a stomach knotted and a mouth as dry as dust.  
  
He didn't care. He told himself that over and over as he stepped outside and saw the old GR set up and running. He was glad she wasn't going to hinder his training today. Vegeta stepped into his own GR and cranked the gravity up higher than he'd ever taken it before and threw himself into his workout.  
  
He didn't want her. He didn't want the feelings she evoked in him. They were weak!  
  
There was a low whine growing on the very upper limit of his hearing. At first he did not pay it any heed, too focused on his thoughts. But as the noise grew steadily louder Vegeta gradually became aware of it. Just as the brief thought occurred to him that he recognized this sound from somewhere, a tremendous explosion rocked the GR.  
  
The saiyan prince was flung ass over teakettle across the room and into the far wall. He landed on his face as the gravity abruptly shut down and the emergency lights came on. Swearing, he rose and looked around to inspect the damage.  
  
But there was none.  
  
Not in this GR.  
  
He didn't even realize he was moving until he had flung open the door. Outside the air stank of smoke and oil. The old GR lay in pieces, the ground scorched from the explosion. Vegeta's heart dropped into his stomach as he dove at the wreckage, tossing aside pieces of metal and equipment.  
  
"Woman!" He shouted. "Where the hell are you?" He could smell blood but there was so much wreckage that even with his strength he was barely making a dent in it. The saiyan found he was shaking, and forced himself to stop. He stretched out his ki sense, searching for the familiar signature.  
  
And found none.  
  
His face froze in a stunned rictus of horrified surprise. No ki signature - she was - dead?  
  
Something snapped inside him and the blocks he'd placed across his emotions came down like a dam before a flood.  
  
"NO!" His head back, the saiyan prince roared his agony to the unfeeling sky. His ki exploded into existence around him, burning white hot and then gold. His hair stood on end, molten gold, and his clenched eyes were shining turquoise beneath the lids.  
  
Vegeta had finally become a super-saiyan.  
  
Nearly a hundred yards away, a battered figure roused at the sound of her name screamed in a voice near breaking.  
  
"Vegeta -?"  
  
In his haze of power and pain and loss, the voice took a moment to register on him. But it did, finally, and his head snapped around. The entire world seemed to hold its breath as Bulma and Vegeta stared at each other across the wreckage of the GR. She was obviously battered from being blown out the door of the GR as it exploded. He was still wrapped in the glowing colors of a super-saiyan.  
  
She had been unconscious, Vegeta realized. That was why he could not sense her.  
  
He had gone super-saiyan because he thought she was dead, Bulma realized. Burning in those eyes, green now, was the knowledge that -  
  
Her mouth curled into a feral smile and words sprang unbidden to her lips in a language she had no right to know.  
  
("Claim me if you can, Vegeta") said the woman in Saiya-go, and sprang into the skies.  
  
He fell out of super-saiyan at the sound of the ancient mating challenge. But he could no longer deny what it was he felt for her. And yet since that emotion had pushed him across the barrier to his birthright of super- saiyan, he could no longer pretend it was weak, now could he?  
  
Growling, Vegeta leaped into the sky after her. 


	9. End Game

Disclaimer: See chapter one  
  
A/N: Sorry it took me awhile. I'm finishing college and there's a lot of work to do... The song in this is called "It had to be you". It's an older song, and while I don't know who wrote it, I think Sinatra might have sung it. Also, while not lemon, this chapter does have nudity and references to acts of a sexual nature. IF YOU AREN'T OLD ENOUGH, DON'T READ IT!  
  
If it had been merely a matter of strength, it would have been the shortest courtship flight in Saiyan history.  
  
But Bulma made up in speed what she lacked in power. It took everything Vegeta had to gain on her. They spiraled across the sky in an aerial chase that pit saiyan against saiyan. She held nothing back; if he really wanted her, he would have to catch her.  
  
(It had to be you. It had to be you.)  
  
Vegeta closed on her, intending to drop from above. But she anticipated his move, and as he reached for her she dropped like a stone and rocketed in the other direction. He smirked at her gutsy-ness, particularly impressive in one who had barely been flying for two days.  
  
He shot higher into the air, using the sun to hide him and suppressing his ki to keep her from catching his next trick. As she hesitated in the air, trying to figure where he'd gone, he dove upon her like a stooping hawk.  
  
(I wandered around, and finally found, somebody who)  
  
At the last instant she caught sight of him from the corner of her eye, and rolled out of the path of his dive. Now she climbed, higher and higher, him pursuing. The air grew cold and thin. Just as Vegeta was about to catch hold of her, Bulma reached the apex of her climb and let herself fall backwards and earthwards.  
  
She turned the fall into a dive, but did not expect Vegeta to shoot PAST her. Even as she struggled to pull out of it, the wily prince had reversed and climbed back up to meet her. In a heartbeat he had closed on her.  
  
(Could make me be true, could make me be blue)  
  
His arms closed about her, ending the chase. In the next moment, to his delighted surprise, she was all over him, growling, kissing, licking, nibbling. It took all of his self-control to keep them in flight as she ravaged his face and neck. They descended together, with Vegeta the only one actually using his ki to keep in flight. When they landed on the soft grass of an exposed hillside on the island, Bulma began to stroke and knead base of his tail. Growling, he ripped open her top with one sure yank.  
  
Bulma laughed and squirmed out of the remains.  
  
"No fair," she breathed. "You're still all dressed."  
  
(Or even be glad just to be sad thinking of you)  
  
She took hold of the collar of his training outfit and pulled. The spandex gave easily under her grip, and in moments Vegeta was naked as the day he was born. He smirked at her open admiration of his body.  
  
"Now who's more dressed, woman?" he growled. She giggled and started kissing her way down him from the neck on downwards. Somehow he got her lower clothing removed in the middle of that sweet torture, and then there was nothing but skin between them.  
  
(Some others I've seen, might never be mean)  
  
It was hours before they spoke again, other than the gasps and cries of lovemaking.  
  
"Blasted woman," he murmured, wrapping his tail around her.  
  
"Stubborn saiyan," she replied, nipping his nose lightly.  
  
(Might never be cross, or try to be boss, but they wouldn't do)  
  
He growled and kissed her. This time when their blood mingled in each other's mouths, it was sweet, sweet.  
  
"I love you," she said, when they came up for air.  
  
"I-" Vegeta struggled; even now having difficulty making such soft words come from his mouth. Bulma took his face between her hands.  
  
"I know," she said, smiling, and to his surprise began to move insistently against him again.  
  
(For nobody else gave me a thrill. With all of your faults I love you still.)  
  
It was much later, when they were both too thoroughly exhausted and sated to do more than lie purring in each other's arms, that Vegeta finally asked the question.  
  
"What happened with the GR?"  
  
She nuzzled his neck.  
  
"Some of the circuits were bad. It started to overload at only 200x gravity. I realized what was going on and started for the door. But I didn't quite make it - I got blown out the door and into a tree. I must have been knocked out, but then I heard you scream and I woke up." He looked a bit uncomfortable at the mention of that, but she just smiled and nipped at his nose lightly.  
  
"You were the most amazing thing I've ever seen," she said softly. And squealed as a golden aura exploded around them. Vegeta had gone super- saiyan again. The aura was so intense, but she stared at her mate's green eyes and laughed at his wicked smirk. "Bastard." She kissed him again.  
  
(It had to be you, wonderful you, it had to be you!)  
  
~~~  
  
In the otherworld, a very smug Saiyan queen leaned against her mate.  
  
"You nudged him into biting her when she gave him that serum," King Vegeta accused.  
  
"Yes," she agreed pleasantly.  
  
"And then you put the words of the mating challenge into her mind."  
  
"Yes again," the Saiyan queen smiled mischievously.  
  
"Meddler."  
  
"Even fate needs a hand now and then," she retorted, and laughed. 


End file.
